


Morituri te salutamus-We who are about to die salute you.

by steeleye



Series: Back in the SPQR. [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Rome (TV series). Spartacus (Film) Spartacus: Blood and Sand (TV series). Gladiator (Film).
Genre: Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover fic., Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 79,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being killed by the Master, Buffy wakes up more than 2000 years earlier. Forced to fight in the arena as a gladiatrix she becomes the unwitting pawn in a game of life and death; gratuitous sex and violence ensue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Morituri te salutamus.**

_We who are about to die salute you._

By Steeleye.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the films or TV programmes used in this multiple xover fic. Neither do I claim authorship of any scripted words that you may find herein. I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** Multiple crossovers: Rome (TV series). Spartacus (Film). Spartacus: Blood and Sand (TV series). Gladiator (Film).

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar;** Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

 **Timeline:** This fic is number three in my ‘Back in the SPQR’ series and other BtVS characters are likely to appear as the story progresses.

 **Words:** Too many to shake a stick at!

 **Warnings:** To paraphrase Monty Python; there’ll be blood caked on the walls and flesh flying out the windows incommoding the passers-by with this one. **Gratuitous sex and violence plus strong language. You have been warned!**

 **Summary:** A Roman Xover. After being killed by the Master, Buffy wakes up more than 2000 years earlier. Forced to fight in the arena as a gladiatrix she becomes the unwitting pawn in a game of life and death; gratuitous sex and violence ensue!

0=0=0=0

Authors Notes and list of characters appear at the end of this chapter.

0=0=0=0

**BOOK THREE.**

Angel gets there first,

**Morituri te salutamus.**

_*We who are about to die salute you.*_

**The Prologue.**

**Sunnydale, 2nd June, 1997.**

Looking around the ill lit cavern, Angel spotted Buffy lying face down in a pool of dirty water, her hair was wet and lank; her virginal, white, prom dress was stained with mud and blood. Scrambling down the uneven stone steps into the main chamber of the cave he rushed over to where she lay and pulled her from the water. Turning her over onto her back he laid her gently on the floor. Only seconds behind him, Xander appeared at the top of the stairs, taking in the scene, he watched as Angel held his ear to Buffy’s mouth trying to hear her breathing. Detecting no sound the vampire turned to look up at Xander.

“She's dead!” the words caught in Angel’s throat choking off anything else he might want to say.

Staring down at the couple, Xander swallowed hard. There was something at the back of his mind that he should be remembering right now; something from when he’d learned to swim years ago. Crossing the last few feet to where Buffy lay, Xander knelt down next to the girl he loved and the vampire he hated.

“No!” Xander shook his head vehemently, he refused to accept this reality, “She's not dead.”

He simply wouldn’t allow it, he had so much more that he wanted to tell her.

“But she’s not breathing,” Angel cried on the verge of tears.

“Yeah,” Xander placed his hand under the back of Buffy’s neck and lifted it upwards, letting her head fall back and her mouth open. “Look, if she’s just drowned, there's a chance…CPR!”

“You’ll have to do it, I have no breath,” Angel explained completely forgetting he had to breathe to be able to talk!

Laying his mouth over Buffy’s, Xander breathed three quick breaths into her lungs. Kneeling upright again he started to press on her breast bone trying to force her to start breathing for herself.

“C'mon! C'mon!” Xander muttered as he continued to press on Buffy’s chest; after fifteen or so compressions he placed his mouth over her’s once more and breathed into her lungs again. “C'mon!” Xander cried as desperation started to creep into his voice, “Breathe damn-it! Breathe!”

Looking from Xander back down to Buffy’s pale face, Angel knew the truth and turned his head away in sorrow, he knew death when he saw it and although, Xander kept pumping on Buffy’s chest he knew it too, it was pointless, there was nothing either of them could do to save her.

“C'mon!” The tears fell from Xander’s eyes onto Buffy’s beautiful, still face; after a couple of more compressions Xander admitted defeat and sat back on his heels.

Looking at the vampire, Xander wiped the tears from his eyes, it was strange how things turned out, the two of them united in grief over the girl they both loved.

“It’s no good,” Xander spoke softly, “she’s cold, man.”

0=0=0=0

Chapter One.

**Rome, over two thousand years earlier.**

“What’s this?” Marius Arsenius held up his hand as he halted by the cage.

“Keep back!” Akakios of Argos pulled his friend away from the bars, “she’s like a wild animal!”

“What?” Marius peered through the bars; he turned to look at his friend in disbelief.

The girl lay on the floor of the cage, she was naked except for heavy chains around her neck, ankles and wrists; she was filthy and there were angry red welts lacing her back where she’d been beaten. Her body was very thin, her ribs clearly visible and her flaxen hair was lank and long covering her gaunt face.

“She hardly looks dangerous,” Marius observed as a smile of disbelief appeared on his lips.

“She killed one of my most experienced men outright and seriously injured three more,” Akakios whispered as if he feared waking the sleeping girl.

Looking at the girl afresh, Marius reconsidered; his own wife was quite capable of such feats so maybe…

“I’ve tried to starve and beat her into submission,” Akakios explained, “but it only seems to make her worse!”

“No!” Marius admonished, “Her sort you need to win with kindness not the lash. You don’t want to break her spirit,” he pointed out with a crafty smile, “think of the money you can make with her if you have her trained as a gladiatrix.”

“You think?” Akakios looked at Marius as if he’d grown another head, then very slowly a calculating look came over the slave trader’s face. “Your wife was a venetrix and some time gladiatrix was she not?”

“Indeed,” Marius replied proudly, “and a pretty pile of cash she made at it too!”

“Hmm,” Akakios rubbed his chin and eyed his friend shrewdly, “you may have something there.” He sighed deeply, “Anyway, she’s no use to me as she is, no one but a fool would want to fuck that hellcat!”

“Mark my words,” advised Marius, “have her trained, you won’t regret it.”

Walking on through the slave market, Marius found he couldn’t concentrate, the mere mention of his wife’s name had driven all thoughts of business from his mind. Only wanting to get back to his villa and make love to his beautiful Fidelia, he said his goodbyes to Akakios and headed for home. By the time he’d walked from the market place all thoughts of the blonde slave girl lying in her cage had been driven from his mind by thoughts of his own, lithe, dark haired beauty.

0=0=0=0

**Later the same day.**

“Welcome, Lentulus Batiatus!” Akakios stepped forward and helped the short rotund man from the back of his mule.

“Welcome indeed,” Lentulus eased his back and rubbed his numb posterior; he hated riding and hated riding in the heat of an Italian summer even more, “and thank-you.”

“May I offer you wine? Water?” Akakios asked.

“Water would be most acceptable my friend,” Lentulus’ eyes were already roving over the contents of the slave pens even as he took a mug of water from one of Akakios’ slaves. “Seven miles through this disastrous heat,” he complained, “and the cost of hiring an escort,” Lentulus sighed tiredly, “ruinous!” Turning slightly he walked towards the first of the slave pens with Akakios close behind him, “Even so, I warrant you have nothing fit to sell me.” Once again Lentulus sighed dramatically, “I’ve wasted both my time and money, come on,” he stopped to turn once again and look at Akakios, “tell me the truth.”

“Ha!” Akakios laughed at Lentulus’ gloomy visage, “I think I might have one or two you could be interested in.”

“What these!?” Lentulus gestured with his hand to the wild, hairy barbarians that occupied the first pen, “Carrion! The buzzards are late; they wouldn’t last five minutes in the arena, hardly worth the cost and effort of feeding them.”

Walking on together a few more steps Lentulus turned to glare at the youth who was following him with a sunshade and not doing a very good job of shielding him from the sun’s rays.

“Look,” Lentulus gestured up to the sky, “the sun’s there…” he raised an eyebrow and the youth got the message and moved the shade to cast a shadow over his employer.

“This one here’s not bad,” Akakios pointed to a large man in a cage by himself, “a Gaul.”

“Oh!” Lentulus threw up his hands in horror, “I don’t like Gauls, far too hairy. They’re not what the ladies of quality in the audience want to see, you see?”

Whatever his feelings about Gauls, Lentulus went over to the cage for a closer look, he turned to Akakios.

“Can you get him to kneel down and open his mouth?” Lentulus asked, “I need to see his teeth.”

Barking out a few words in Gaulish, Akakios ordered the slave to kneel and open his mouth; Lentulus peered into the Gaul’s mouth.

“Yes,” Lentulus muttered more to himself than to Akakios, “As the teeth go, so do the bones, this mouth is impermissible.” Lentulus moved on towards the next cage, “The fellow’s made of chalk.”

“Now this you might find interesting,” Akakios gestured to the girl who lay at the bottom of her cage dressed only in her chains.

“A girl?” Lentulus glanced at the girl before dismissing her from his mind, “I have no need for more girls’ particularly dirty, smelly ones that you’ve obviously had to beat to keep in order.”

“My dear Lentulus,” Akakios called stopping his friend before he could walk on too far, “this is no ordinary slave girl this is something special.”

“How so?” Lentulus turned and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his friend before glancing back at the girl, “She doesn’t look very special to me…unless your idea of ‘special’ is having your balls ripped off by her in the middle of the night.”

He’d seen her sort before, some barbarian noble woman no doubt, who’d never come to terms with her new role as a slave. Some would always keep fighting until they eventually had to be killed. However, Lentulus stopped and listened carefully to Akakios’ tale of her capture just over the border north of the Alps.

“A friend and business partner of mine,” Akakios explained after coming to the end of his story, “suggested that I have her trained as a gladiatrix.”

“A what!” Lentulus threw up his hands in dismay, “A gladiatrix, no, no, no I have no use for her and who’s this friend of yours to give you such bad advice?”

“Marius Arsenius,” Akakios announced noticing the way the look on Lentulus’ face changed from one of scorn to one of interest.

“Hmmmm, Marius Arsenius, eh?” Lentulus said slowly, “If I remember correctly he made his fortune in the slave business but gave it all up after he married that woman Fidelia what’s-her-name.”

“Venetrix,” Akakios supplied helpfully and watched the sestertius drop behind Lentulus’ eyes.

“Ah, yes!” Lentulus looked at the girl with renewed interest; gladiatrix were not unheard of, although he’d never actually seen one, “How many men did you say she killed?”

“One outright,” Akakios repeated, “and three others badly injured…and she was unarmed.”

“She was!?” Lentulus looked at Akakios sharply; he’d done business with the Greek for many years and had found him trustworthy and not prone to the over exaggeration or the verbose, flowery speech that seemed to afflict his countrymen; Akakios was a novelty, a straight talking Greek.

Of course, Lentulus mused, if he did buy her and train her there’d be added expense, he wouldn’t just be able to put her in with the other gladiators. No, he smiled, if he did that she’d be dead or pregnant within a few weeks, either way she’d be useless to him. However, ideas ran fleet footed through his mind; if he made a few minor alterations to the living quarters…yes it just might just work.

“How much?” Lentulus asked having come to a decision.

“Two hundred,” Akakios replied quickly.

“Two hundred!?” Lentulus exclaimed throwing up his hands in faux despair, “She’s never worth two-hundred, in that condition she’s not worth twenty-five!”

“Oh come on!” Akakios laughed, “feed her up a little, you’ll soon have her at fighting weight…hundred-and-fifty then?” 

“It’ll take a week just to get her clean,” Lentulus wrinkled his nose at the smell that came from the girl, “and look how she’s been beaten…seventy-five.”

“Tell you what,” Akakios put his arm around Lentulus’ shoulder as he drew him away from the cage, “give me a hundred-and-seventy-five, I’ll throw in the Gaul and…” Akakios let his words hang for a moment, “I’ll pay for her, food and upkeep for a share in the profits.”

“Hmmm,” Lentulus hesitated and frowned for a moment, despite what he’d said earlier the Gaul was a good buy and the deal on the girl sounded…interesting.

“Imagine the novelty value,” Akakios’ words insinuated themselves into Lentulus’ mind, “you won’t regret it, just think of the tourist trade,” Akakios gestured off into the distance as if pointing to a future of fame and fortune for Lentulus, “when this works out you could have an entire school of gladiatrix, you could become world famous!”

“And rich,” Lentulus said quietly, “twenty-eighty to me!”

“Lentulus!” Akakios gave his friend a hurt look, “You wound me, however I’m not greedy, forty-sixty!” Came the counter offer.

“Thirty-seventy and you supply transport to take both slaves back to my school,” Lentulus looked at his new partner expectantly.

“Done!” Akakios suppressed the sigh of relief that almost escaped his throat; to be honest he’d not expected to sell the girl for so much, in fact he’d expected to have to sell her to a brothel-keeper for no more than a few bronze coins.

0=0=0=0

It was like being in some kind of living nightmare; Buffy remembered going to the Master’s lair, she remembered trying to shoot him with her crossbow. In her minds eye she saw how the vampire had snatched her bolt out of the air and broken it contemptuously between his fingers, she shivered in her fever induced dreams. He’d grabbed her as she’d tried to stake him and had looked deeply into her eyes. From that moment on, Buffy knew she was dead. Almost welcoming the touch of his fangs on her neck she’d not even tried to resist as he’d sucked the life from her.

The next thing she remembered was lying half in and half out of a river. It was daylight and she had vague memories of blue sky, tall trees and mountains in the distance. Dragging herself weakly from the cold river water, Buffy had been unaware of the men who crept up behind her until they’d grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet. Reacting instinctively she’d lashed out, hitting one man and freeing herself from the grip of the other. Looking down at the man she’d hit as the other ran off into the trees, Buffy realised she’d killed him; she’d not meant to do it, it’d been an accident, she was confused and scared and lost and…

Turning slightly she saw half a dozen men dressed in short tunics and sandals, like actors in some historical, action, adventure epic. However, actors, she felt sure didn’t carry clubs, whips and nets. The men rushed at her and tried to capture her, frantically Buffy fought back, she thought she might have killed another of their number but she couldn’t be sure. After being drained by the vampire (and dying) she felt weak and the men were armed, it was only a matter of time before one of them got in a lucky hit. Struck on the back of the head by a club, Buffy fell to her knees as they threw their net over her.

Wrapped up in the net, Buffy couldn’t defend herself as the men beat on her with their cudgels. Picking her up they carried her back to their encampment where they released her from the net. Again she tried to break free, but this time the men were ready for her and laid into her unmercifully, bludgeoning her as soon as she’d started to try and fight. All too soon she was beaten into submission and lost consciousness.

Waking to find her wrists and ankles in chains Buffy rested with her back to the wheel of a wagon and watched as her captures worked around their camp. The more she saw, the more she felt like she was trapped in some horrific, historical, adventure park, or more likely transported to a demon dimension. The first set of chains Buffy brook after only having to work on them for a few minutes. Stumbling to her feet she must have kicked something over. Whatever happened the men were alerted and soon fell on her with their clubs again. This time they tried to keep well away from her hands and feet as they beat her to the ground. Once they’d subdued her they placed heavier chains on her before tying her to the cart and beating her with whips.

Over the next few days, Buffy kept trying to escape and the men kept catching her and beating her, it was like some tragic, sadistic game. Then one day, she didn’t try to escape, she hurt all over and felt sick and weak, they were barely giving her enough food and water to keep her alive. Each night was the same; after they’d travelled all day the men would eat, then take her from the iron cage they’d put her in and beat her. By the time they got her and their other prisoners to the city, the girl in the cage was no longer the same Buffy Summers that had died in Sunnydale.

0=0=0=0

Having spent the night at Akakios’ villa in Rome, Lentulus started out for his school as soon as the city gates were opened hoping to miss the worst of the day’s heat. After two hours of pure torture sitting on the back of his particularly bony mule, Lentulus and his little convoy reached his school and home seven miles north of Rome. Dismounting with a heart felt sigh of relief; he walked stiff legged into his house after sending the wagons containing his purchases around to the training yard. On entering the cool darkness of his home, Lentulus was greeted by Varinia, his housekeeper and favourite slave woman.

“Varinia,” Lentulus smiled as he held the young woman’s face in his hand, “it is so good to be home. If I could only trust that fool Antoninus to pick stock I’d never go to Rome again,” he looked around for the man in question, “Where is he by the way?”

“Working on the monthly accounts, Dominus,” Varinia replied, “May I get you some water? Wine perhaps?”

“Just water, by dear,” Lentulus placed his arm around the young woman’s waist as they walked deeper into house.

Clapping her hands imperiously, Varinia sent serving girls to get Lentulus refreshments while she stayed close to her master ready to obey his every order.

“Send for Antoninus, I have a matter I need to discuss with him,” Lentulus sat down on a couch with a relieved sigh as Varinia dispatched yet another girl to go and find the Greek scribe.

Lying back on his coach, Lentulus drank his water and partook of the light meal, Varinia had sent for him. As he did so he told her of his purchase of the girl and his intention of training her as a gladiatrix.

“Of course,” Lentulus dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, “I’ll have to keep her separated from those randy goats of gladiators out there,” he gestured towards the training yard on the other side of the villa’s wall. “So, she’ll have to use the women’s ablutions and I think we might have to have a couple of extra gates put in, but no matter,” Lentulus sighed as he ran an appreciative eye over Varinia’s body, work before pleasure he told himself.

“Now, have we got a girl or woman who could work as this barbarian’s hand maid?” Lentulus asked as he looked up into Varinia’s beautiful face. “She’ll need to be quick witted and skilled, she’ll no doubt have to return this barbarian to health as well as civilise the wretch and teach her to talk like a proper human being.”

“I have someone in mind, Dominus,” Varinia nodded to herself after a moments thought, “the girl Eos.”

“Eos?” Lentulus frowned a little before he remembered the girl, “A little young isn’t she?”

“Fourteen, Dominus,” Varinia admitted, “but she speaks both Latin and Greek, she can write a little and count.” Varinia recalled the girl’s other virtues to mind, “She’s lively, quick to make friends and a skilled masseuse.”

“A real paragon,” Lentulus muttered, he looked up at Varinia and shrugged, “so be it if you think she’s suitable,” he sighed as he started to stand up. “Have her assigned to the gladiatrix, from now on her main duties will be the barbarian’s care. Now,” trying to stretch the kinks out of his back, Lentulus got up and placed his arm around Varinia’s shoulder, “take me to Antoninus, once I’ve given him his instructions you can repair the damage done to me by that sadistic mule!”

0=0=0=0

Later that evening, Lentulus stood outside of the cell that held the would be, gladiatrix. He frowned a little as he looked down to where she lay motionless on the narrow cot. He saw that someone had removed her chains and had made an attempt at cleaning her up a little. Varinia had told him the girl had a fever, he hoped it wasn’t anything more serious than a reaction to all the beatings and harsh treatment she’d received. However, he was going to keep his distance just in case it was something more serious.

The cell occupied by the girl was one of the last two at the end of the barrack block, behind him was a double gate leading to the female slave’s quarters, all that needed to be done to make the girl secure was to place a gate between her cell and the cells occupied by the gladiators. Antoninus was having that work done tomorrow, until then a guard could be put on the girl’s door. He suspected that not even one of his guards would be stupid enough to sneak into the girl’s cell and fuck her if she had a fever. Turning his head away from the gladiatrix, Lentulus saw Varinia approach with a young slave girl.

“This is Eos, Dominus,” Varinia introduced the girl.

Looking down at the girl, Lentulus recognised her. Yes, he remember her now, he’d bought her about six months ago and he vaguely remembered seeing her at work around house. She was pretty enough in a country girl sort of way, long, straight, brown hair surrounding a heart shaped face; her best feature were her beautiful blue eyes.

“So,” Lentulus completed his quick inspection of the girl, “you’re Eos, eh?”

“Yes, Dominus,” Eos kept her eyes firmly on the floor as she spoke to her master.

“Well, from now on you’re task will be the care of…of…” Lentulus gestured helplessly at girl in the cell, “Does anyone know what her name is?” When neither Varinia or Eos answered he supposed no one did, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to find out or think of one,” he looked down at Eos, “that can be one of your first tasks,” he nodded his head slowly, “think of a name for her.” Lentulus was getting tired; it was almost time for his dinner. “In the mean time,” he looked down at Eos, “get her cleaned up, dress her wounds and give her a good plucking she’s disgustingly hairy.”

“Yes, Dominus,” Eos replied to her master’s retreating back.

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**Authors note;** This is not an essay on the late Roman Republic and the historical timeline has been left deliberately vague. I’ve also altered Roman society somewhat to fit in with people’s preconceived ideas and the plot! The descriptions of the arena have more to do with the later Imperial period than the late Republican one. Also I’m not a Latin scholar and to be honest I’ve made a lot of the Latin words up; they are actual Latin words I’m just not 100% sure I’m using them correctly! After all this is a fanfic story and not an academic work.

I hope you enjoy it and read it through to the end.

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**List of Characters.**

Buffitrix/Trix (aka Buffy Summers); a gladiatrix.  
Eos; a Greek slave girl owned by Lentulus, Buffitrix’s best friend.

Lentulus Batiatus; Buffitix’s owner and Dominus of the House of Batiatus.  
Sempronius; Primus Exercitor/Head Coach.  
Hector; Secundus Exercitor/Assistant coach.   
Antoninus; Lentulus’ Greek scribe.  
Varinia; A slave woman belonging to Lentulus.

Gladiators belonging to Lentulus Batiatus.  
Spartacus - An enemy of Buffitrix.  
Crixus - A gladiator.  
Marcellus - Another enemy of Buffitrix.   
David - A Jewish Gladiator (already).  
Draba - A friend of Buffitrix.  
Ramon.-Spanish Gladiator and friend of Buffitrix.  
Gannicus - Another Gladiator.  
Dionysius - Yet another gladiator   
Caius - A gladiator, Buffitrix’s boyfriend.  
Laelius - Not another gladiator?  
Ariovistix - A Gaulish gladiator with an unusually small penis, an enemy of Buffitrix.   
Bodvoc - Another Gaulish gladiator who isn’t bothered by Buffitrix one way or the other. 

Senator Marcus Licinius Crassus; Invigilator (an early form of watcher).  
Aulus; a trusted slave of Crassus.

Claudia Marius; Invigilator (an early form of watcher) and assassin.  
Helena; Claudia Marius’ trusted slave.  
Vanora; Slave girl belonging to Claudia Marius.

Tribune Marcus Publius Glabrus; officer commanding the Peculiaris Extraordinarii.  
Centurion Quintus Erebus; Centurion of the Primus Century of the Peculiaris Extraordinarii.

Marius Arsenius; A rich businessman and trader.  
Fidelia Arsenius (aka Faith Lehane); Ex-Gladiatrix and Venetrix, wife of Marius Arsenius.  
Marius the Younger; Faith’s eldest son.  
Fidelia the Younger; Faith’s eldest daughter, sometimes called Fidie.  
Octavian; Twin brother to Octavia.  
Octavia; Twin sister to Octavian.  
Niobe; Faith’s youngest daughter.  
Sabia; Nurse to Faith’s children.  
Solonius; The Arsenius family butler.  
Licinia; Faith’s Lady’s Maid.  
Sextus Ennius; Captain of the Arsenius household guard.

Akakios of Argos; a Greek slave trader and friend of Marius Arsenius.

Octavian Caesar; Dictator/First Citizen of Rome.

Titus Pullo; Captain of the Aventine Collegium.   
Shani (aka Willow Rosenberg); A witch, Titus Pullo’s wife and friend of Fidelia.  
Lucius; Willow’s son with Lucius Vorenus.  
Titus; Willow’s son with Pullo.  
Zofiya; Willow’s daughter with Pullo.  
Aeneas; Pullo’s son with Queen Cleopatra, Willow’s step-son.  
Vorena the Elder; a Priestess. Lucius Vorenus’ elder daughter.  
Vorena the Younger; Lucius Vorenus’ younger daughter.  
Drusilla (not a vampire); slave girl belonging to Shani.

Posca; A scribe/aide working for Octavian Caesar   
Jocasta; Posca’s young and attractive wife, acquaintance of Shani.

Villanus; a footpad, sometimes in the pay of Crassus.  
Odius; a smelly footpad, sometimes in the pay of Crassus.

Senna the Soothsayer; a soothsayer and witch sometimes in the pay of Crassus.

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Little by little, Buffy slowly became conscious of her surroundings, shifting slightly she became aware that she was lying on a bed. Not a very soft bed but still a bed and so much more comfortable than the floor of the cage she’d been put in. Thoughts of the cage brought back memories of being chained up and beaten. Rolling onto her side she sobbed quietly to herself and pressed her face into the pillow and tried to force these horrific memories back into the box from which they’d sprung.

Regaining some control over her emotions, Buffy once again became aware of the sounds and scents around her. In the distance she could hear people talking as they worked, the smell of cooking drifted to her nose, so maybe she was near a kitchen. Closer to hand she could hear someone humming as they moved around; a woman or girl by the sounds of it. Turning onto her back again, she opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the ceiling of a small room, almost a cell in fact.

Shifting her head slightly, Buffy saw that she was in a room which measured no more than six feet by eight. There was a solid looking wooden door standing ajar at one end and a small square window covered with a heavy metal grill at the other. It really did look like a cell, was she in jail? Movement drew her eye over to where a girl in a simple grey cotton dress swept the floor by the door with a long handled broom as she hummed happily to herself.

“Hi?” Buffy croaked, her throat felt like it was full of dust.

Instantly the girl stopped what she was doing and rested the broom against the wall, she walked over to Buffy's bed and knelt down.

“Hello, sleepy head,” the girl smiled down at her; Buffy saw a pretty teenage girl with blue eyes and long brown hair, “I thought you were never going to wake up,” explained the girl as she turned to do something, “you’ve been delirious with a fever for three days, here…”

The girl helped Buffy raise her head as she held an earthenware cup to her lips; Buffy drank greedily and spilt most of the water down her chin. As she drank memories of the girl helping her while she’d been sick flooded back to her mind.

“Easy, easy,” cooed the girl as she put down the cup and used a rag to mop up the spilt water, “Shall we try that again, but a little more slowly this time?”

Nodding her head, Buffy let the girl lift her head again and put the cup to her lips once more. This time she drank more carefully letting the cool water slide down her throat washing away the grit that seemed to have collected there.

“There, that’s better,” the girl smiled at her, as if Buffy had done something very clever, “I’d Eos by the way,” Eos filled the cup again from a big jug that stood on a low stool next to the bed, “what’s your name?”

“Buffy,” Buffy replied in something approaching her normal voice, Eos giggled; Buffy found she liked the sound even if it was probably aimed at her name, “Hey,” Buffy frowned, “what’s so funny?”

“Your name,” Eos giggled again, “it sounds funny,” she looked into Buffy’s eyes for a moment and sobered a little, “I’m sure it’s a perfectly good name where you come from but here,” Eos paused momentarily, “well, it just sounds sorta odd, y’know?”

“Yeah, okay,” Buffy pushed herself up the bed a little, the water had revived her.

“More?” Eos held the cup up, Buffy nodded her head, “Lets see if you can hold it?”

Wrapping Buffy’s hands around the cup, Eos waited until she was sure that Buffy wasn’t going to drop the cup before sitting back on her heels and watching her drink. After draining the cup again, Buffy handed it to Eos and noticed the bandages on her wrists. The girl saw where Buffy was looking and frowned sympathetically.

“Your wrists and ankles were pretty badly cut where the chains had rubbed on them,” Eos explained, “and your back wasn’t so good either.”

“My back?” Buffy thought for a moment her eyes going blank, so it hadn’t been all some terrible nightmare; she really had been chained up and beaten, a big lump suddenly appeared in her throat, “Oh god!” She gasped as tears ran down her cheeks; she buried her face in her hands and started to sob uncontrollably.

“There, there, my honey,” Eos sat on the edge of Buffy’s bed and gathered her into her arms. “You’ll be fine, I-I put salve and clean bandages on your wounds every day you’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Holding on to the girl, Buffy let herself be rocked backwards and forwards as Eos stroked her back and hair while she murmured soothing sounds into her ear. Eventually the rocking and the warm comforting softness of Eos’s body made Buffy drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Resting Buffy’s head against her pillow once more, Eos sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Buffy’s hair away from her face, she frowned a little as her fingers got caught up in the blonde tangle on the young woman’s head. That was going to take some combing out, she thought. Well that could all wait for tomorrow; Dominus had told her to get the barbarian woman fit and well again, tonight he would be pleased when she gave him her report on her charge. By the looks of it Buffy, Eos suppressed another giggle at the name, was a strong young woman who’d soon be well enough to start training.

0=0=0=0

The next time Buffy woke up she felt a lot better, pushing herself up into a sitting position she was able to help herself to a cup of water without spilling any or feeling like she was going to drop the cup. Drinking the water, she heard her tummy rumble and she realised just how hungry she was, hopefully, Eos would get her something to eat. Finding the girl in question absent, Buffy took a moment to look around her ‘cell’ again. The door stood ajar as it had before. This time however, she noticed sunshine coming in from outside and the door had what looked like a small hatch in it at about eye level. The walls of the cell, she couldn’t really think of what else to call it, were whitewashed and sort of vaulted, the ceiling forming an arch above her head. Perhaps, she thought, she was in a convent somewhere. The sound of familiar humming came to Buffy’s ears, turning back to the door she saw Eos walk into the cell carrying a tray.

“Oh good,” she smiled, “you’re awake.”

Setting the tray down on the floor for a minute, Eos fused around Buffy getting her to sit up before sitting down on the stool next to the bed and placing the tray on her lap. Sitting up, Buffy noticed two things, first she was naked, second she'd become very thin.

“Here,” Eos picked up the small round loaf that sat on the tray next to the steaming bowl of what looked like some sort of stew and broke off a piece; dunking the bread in the stew she held it up to Buffy’s mouth.

“Thank-you,” Buffy murmured as she took the bread in her own hand and placed it into her mouth and started to chew.

The bread was a little gritty and the stew was just a little bland, but right at that moment Buffy thought it tasted wonderful.

“Wow!” Eos smiled as she looked down at the empty bowl and bread crumbs on the tray, “You really were hungry…now if you need to open your bowels or empty your bladder you can use the bucket over there,” Eos pointed to a wooden bucket with a lid over in the furthest corner of the cell.

“No I’m fine for now,” Buffy smiled amused at Eos’ bluntness.

“Good,” Eos placed the tray on the floor again, “now let me look at those bandages.”

Holding out her arm so Eos could get to the bandage on her wrist, Buffy squinted at her forearm.

“Odd,” she said running her free hand along her arm and up to her shoulder.

“What’s odd?” Eos asked as she deftly untied the knot that secured the bandage and started to unwind it.

“All the hairs on my arm have fallen out,” Buffy’s hand went to her head, much to her relief she found the hair on her head was still present, although it felt like a crow had built its nest there.

“No that was me,” Eos replied matter-of-factly.

“You?” Buffy gave the girl a hard look.

“Uh-huh,” Eos nodded as she examined Buffy’s wrist, “took me hours.”

“Took you hours to do what?” Buffy asked from between gritted teeth.

“Dominus told me to give you a good plucking,” Eos explained as she undid the bandage on Buffy’s other wrist.

“A good what-ing?” Buffy started to examine the rest of her body.

“Plucking,” Eos was studying Buffy other wrist now, “he hates it if you have too much body hair, even the gladiators get plucked regularly.”

“Plucked!?” Buffy pulled her hands away from Eos and pushed back the blankets that were covering the lower half of her body, “EEEK!” She cried as she caught sight of herself.

There didn’t appear to be a single hair on her body _anywhere_ , she was as bald as billiard ball!

“Like I say,” Eos appeared not to notice Buffy’s surprise and confusion as she started to remove the bandages from Buffy’s ankles, “it took me ages but now it’s done it’ll be easier to keep it under control in the future.”

Buffy’s mouth moved but no sound came from her lips as she frantically checked that her eyebrows were still where she’d left them. Breathing a sigh of relief, she traced the line of fine hair above her eyes. Relieved that she’d been spared the ‘totally surprised’ look of someone who’d had their eyebrows removed, she rested back on her pillow. Another concern elbowed its way to the forefront of her mind.

“Gladiators?” Buffy asked slowly.

“Uh-huh,” Eos nodded, “and they’re such big babies about it too,” the girl smiled at Buffy, “You know you’re almost completely healed?”

“Yes,” Buffy replied shortly, “I’m lucky that way, now what’s all this about gladiators?”

Perhaps, Buffy thought, she was in a training camp for that ‘Gladiators’ show on TV. However, looking around her Spartan little cell she couldn’t imagine the stars of that program staying in a place like this.

“Oh, there’s about twenty of them,” Eos replied as she took away the soiled bandages and rearranged Buffy’s blankets, “you might have heard them at night after they’ve finished training.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head; looking up at Eos she took a deep breath, “just where the freaking hell am I?”

“Oh,” Eos sat back down on the stool, “this is ‘The House of Batiatus’.”

“Batty-what-us?” Buffy looked at the girl as if she was mad; the happy smile on Eos’s face slipped a little as she registered Buffy’s expression.

“Batiatus,” Eos repeated, “you were really lucky that he bought you…”

“Bought me!?” Buffy started to push the blankets off her legs and attempted to climb out of bed.

“Erm, yes!?” Eos struggled with Buffy as she tried to push her back into bed, “From what I heard you were so badly beaten up that they were going to sell you to a brothel.”

“BROTHEL!?” Buffy shrieked.

“Well, yes,” Eos continued struggling with Buffy, “if they had you’d have only lasted a couple of months.”

“Months?” Buffy stopped fighting Eos and collapsed back onto her bed, she felt weak and totally out of her depth.

“Yes,” Eos started to tidy Buffy’s bedding again, “but as a gladiatrix you could live long enough to buy your freedom,” the girl sat back down on her stool once she was happy that Buffy wasn’t going to try and get up again, “but, even if you don’t you’ll still live longer than if you were a whore…I mean you looked really awful when you arrived here,” Eos patted Buffy’s arm tenderly, “I mean, _really_.”

0=0=0=0

Sometime ago, Giles had told Buffy something about portals to different dimensions, but he’d never mentioned anything to her about portals leading to different times and she’d certainly never seen one. At first she’d tried to deny what was happening to her; she spent a couple of days telling herself this was all some elaborate trick. But why would anyone want to go through all this trouble just to fool her into thinking that she was in the past?

As she got stronger and Eos encouraged her to get up and move around, Buffy started to believe she was really in the past and not some demon dimension. For one thing there were no demons in evidence. There were, however, lots of heavily muscled, young men with oiled skin beating the crap out of each other with wooden swords. There were also a few guys who looked suspiciously like Roman soldiers who helped guard the place. Plus there were loads of female slaves working in the kitchens and around the school in general and in charge of it all was a short, bearded guy in a toga.

Eventually, Buffy had to admit the evidence of her eyes. The Master had killed her and instead of going to heaven she’d gone to ancient Rome, life (or in this case ‘death’) just wasn’t fair. Apart from the entire dying thing…Ancient Rome? Couldn’t she at least have gone somewhere with modern plumbing? Okay, at least the Romans _had_ plumbing but it was just a little ‘basic;’, and there wasn’t any soap or shampoo let alone conditioner, her hair felt like straw! Also there was the entire ‘gladiatrix’ thing. No way was Buffy Anne Summers fighting lions in the arena; vampires maybe, lions…no-way!

After about a week with Eos (who Buffy discovered had been assigned to her as a sort of maid) fussing around her and feeding her until she thought she’d burst. Buffy was taken to see the master of the house, Batiatus himself. Dressing Buffy in a clean off-white, linen tunic, Eos combed her hair and made sure that there was no food scraps around her mouth. To be honest, Eos could be worse than her mother for fussing, Buffy felt a momentary twinge of regret that’d she’d probably never see her mother again.

Although the tunic was marginally longer than some of the skirts and dresses she’d worn to school, Buffy was more concerned about the fact that there was no underwear to go with it. Mentioning this to Eos as the girl tied a cord around her waist, Eos had just giggled and asked her what she wanted with underwear? Underwear was for ladies of quality, she certainly wouldn’t be wearing any. So, dressed only in a short, dress-like tunic and a length of cord, Eos led Buffy to one of the many iron gates around the school and handed her over to a guard in a white tunic who carried a long wooden baton.

The guard said nothing as he led, Buffy up several flights of stairs and through a number of locked gates until they came out into a much more ‘up-market’ area of the school. The guard left her in a large room which was open to the sky and had a sort of indoor garden growing in the middle of it. Warning her not to wander off the guard left. Admiring the mosaics on the floor and the murals painted on the walls, Buffy didn’t notice the man when he first arrived. Hearing the sound of a soft sandal on the marble floor she turned to see the tubby, short, bearded, middle-aged man who she’d seen around the place once or twice before. This she’d been told was Lentulus Batiatus who owned the school and everything in it including, so it would seem, one Buffy Summers.

“Ah!” Lentulus raised his hands in mock surprise, “At last, I was beginning to think you’d never recover,” he favoured Buffy with a bored smile. “Anyway,” Lentulus sighed, “welcome to the Gladiatorial school owned by myself, Lentulus Batiatus. Here you will be taught to fight other gladiators for the entertainment of ladies and gentlemen of quality and the amusement of the mob.” Lentulus turned and gestured to a slave girl, she walked over to him and gave him a goblet of wine, he drank deeply before handing the goblet back to the girl. 

“While you are here you’ll be treated well as long as you obey your trainers,” Lentulus’ eyebrows came together in a frown, “failure to obey will result in your punishment. I do hope you decide to co-operate as I expect to make a great deal of money from you, gladiatrix are very rare.” Lentulus paused as he studied Buffy almost as if he expected her to speak, when she didn’t he just shrugged and carried on with what he’d been saying.

“Talking of money,” Lentulus walked over to a couch and sat down, “you will of course be allowed to keep any prize money and gifts you receive…many of my gladiators become quite wealthy and eventually buy there freedom. Work and fight hard and there are great rewards to be gained…”

“I won’t fight,” Buffy interrupted Lentulus.

“W-what?” Lentulus looked at her as if she’d just fallen from the sky, “What do you mean, you won’t fight? Of course you’ll fight that’s what a gladiatrix does.”

“I won’t fight and kill people because its someone’s idea of fun,” Buffy explained coldly.

“Oh dear,” Lentulus touched his face with his hand as he looked up at Buffy, “is there nothing I can do or say to make you change your mind?”

Buffy shook her head as her jaw set in a determined line.

“I’m not a cruel man,” Lentulus explained sadly, “but I will order you whipped if you don’t obey and train and fight when you’re told.”

“Like to see you try,” Buffy sneered down at the man; her eyes roved around the room looking for an escape route.

“Oh!” Lentulus laughed, “I see, Akakios said you had spirit,” Buffy’s owner nodded his head in agreement with himself. “I bet I could have Sempronius beat you near to death and you still won’t obey.”

“Sounds about right,” Buffy agreed, “but totally without the beating to death part.”

“Yes-yes I see,” Lentulus actually sounded as if he could see her point of view, “but you see I’ve made a financial investment in you…not much true, but money is money, you know?” He raised an eyebrow at Buffy, “I have a partner who is expecting a financial return off your performances as well, so I mustn’t fail him.”

“Then you’re both gonna be like, totally disappointed,” Buffy explained as she started to inch towards what looked like an exit.

“I see,” Lentulus nodded his head sadly, “As I say I’m not a cruel man, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to be cruel.”

Buffy froze in mid-sneak as Lentulus speared her with a look as hard as nails.

“Eos,” Lentulus said conversationally, “sweet girl, I hear you’ve become quite firm friends.”

“What’s she got to do with anything?” Buffy took a step towards Lentulus, the man actually looked worried for a moment.

“Understand, girl,” Lentulus said with a hard edge to his voice, “under Roman law if you kill me all the slaves in the household will be executed.” The dark look Lentulus gave Buffy passed almost as soon as it had appeared. “Now where were we? Yes…Eos, as I say, sweet girl, always so happy and eager to please…you wouldn’t want to hear her screaming as I have her skin whipped from her back, would you?”

“But…” Buffy’s mouth opened in shock as she realised the full horror of her situation.

“Every time you disobey or refuse an order,” Lentulus explained, “Eos will be punished. If you try to escape she will be crucified. Do you understand?” Lentulus raised an eyebrow, “Have you ever seen someone being crucified?” He asked, Buffy shook her head, “It’s a very painful way to die, Eos being a strong, healthy girl, could last at least a day maybe two before the blessed release of death claims her.”

Nodding her head dumbly, Buffy indicated that she understood.

“Good,” Lentulus sighed, “as I say I’m not a cruel man and I’d much prefer little Eos didn’t get whipped or crucified because of your stubbornness. Work hard girl and you can save your friend, as well as yourself, now go,” he gestured with his hand, “you start training tomorrow.”

0=0=0=0


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The morning after her interview with Lentulus, Buffy found herself standing on the sand of the training yard. Around her the twenty or so gladiators of the school were doing warming up exercises while they watched her out of the corner of their eyes. Feeling their looks upon her, Buffy started to wish she had something longer to wear, trying to pull the skirt of her tunic further down to hide more of her legs she didn’t immediately notice the man come and stand near her.

“Girl!” Came a harsh cry from behind her.

“W-what?” Buffy turned to see a tall man with skin the colour of mahogany standing only a few feet away from her; in his left hand he carried a whip in his right two wooden swords.

“I am Hector,” the man announced looking Buffy up and down with a disdainful eye, “I will determine whether you’re worth the trouble of training or advise Dominus to sell you to a brothel.”

“Gee, thanks,” Buffy muttered quietly.

“SILENCE!” Hector cracked his whip making Buffy jump in surprise, “In the training yard you will speak only when you are spoken to, understand?”

“Yes Coach!” Buffy replied quickly, not wanting Eos to be beaten for her mistakes.

“Good,” Hector replied as he walked around Buffy continuing his inspection, stopping in front of her he sneered down at her. “The Dominus tells me you have spirit,” he threw one of the wooden training swords in the sand at her feet, “show me, pick up the sword.”

Bending carefully, Buffy picked up the sword and hefted it in her hand it was heavier than she’d expected. Thinking back, Giles hadn’t taught her much about using a sword preferring to teach her the use of knives and crossbows. Swords and axes, he’d told her, would come later (if she lived long enough was the unsaid caveat). However she wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the use of a sword and she had her slayer memories to fall back on.

“Attack me,” Hector told her, “show me that you’re more than just a whore.”

Feeling her blood start to rise at the jibe, Buffy lunged at Hector aiming for his well muscled stomach. Instead of feeling the tip of her sword punching into his belly and hearing him cry out in surprise and pain, Buffy felt the flat of Hector’s sword land across her butt with a resounding *THWACK!*. Moments later she found herself flying through the air to crash into the sand causing a small cloud of dust to rise around her.

“OW!” Buffy climbed to her feet rubbing her butt; taking a firmer grip on her sword she attacked once more.

Parrying her attacks, Hector gave ground slowly; Buffy was faster that Hector but he had better skills and more experience than she did, he punished her every time she let her guard down. His blade would flash in under her own to whack her across the ribs, thigh or arms. Although these blows were painful they did little actual damage other than to make her cry out and leave livid red marks on her skin.

“ENOUGH!” Hector stood back and lowered his sword to rest by his leg; Buffy still caught up in the moment pressed home the attack she’d already launched.

Once again Hector parried her thrust while at the same time lashing out with his whip catching her across the back of her thighs.

“OWWW!” Buffy wailed as she stumbled away from the man and dropped her sword so she could rub the backs of her legs.

“Enough, I said,” Hector told her sharply, “In future,” Hector spoke quietly as he came to loom over her, “failure to obey a command will result in the girl Eos receiving a whipping, I feel sorry for the girl that her pain depends on such as you.”

Sitting on the sand, Buffy looked up at the man and felt the tears of frustration start to burn her eyes; she’d been bested in a fight by an ordinary human. Not only was her slayer pride hurt it was also bent, dented and tarnished.

“Stand up,” Hector ordered.

Climbing slowly to her feet, Buffy was shocked to discover that she was gasping for breath.

“You’ll be glad to hear,” Hector rolled his whip into his hand as he looked down at her, “that Dominus won’t be selling you to the brothel keeper today.”

Just as she was about to make a snappy come-back, Buffy remembered the sting of the whip across her legs; she tried to imagine that multiplied ten fold. Deciding to save her friend from that sort of pain she bit her tongue and kept quiet.

“You showed spirit,” Hector told her, “there is certainly the spark of a fighter there but you are overconfident and yet you fail to follow through when you have the chance.” Hector picked up Buffy’s sword from the sand, “I gave you two openings and you made one yourself but you never pressed your advantage…a mistake like that in the arena will get you killed.”

Again Buffy had to stifle the smart-assed comment that almost burst from her mouth; instead she just stood there letting this giant of a man take her fighting skills apart piece by piece.

“I can also see,” Hector sighed, “that we need to work on your strength and stamina. I’m told you’ve had a fever and before that you were lying in your own filth at the bottom of a slave pen.” He paused to take a deep breath, “Before that you were probably lying on your back with your legs wide open waiting for someone to fuck some sense into you!”

“Why you…!” Buffy had already let the words escape from her mouth and taken a step towards Hector before she realised what he was doing and what she’d done; he was deliberately goading her.

“That outburst,” Hector snapped pointing his whip at her, “has earned Eos five lashes.”

“No!” Buffy stepped away from the man, “Please don’t,” she begged, “I didn’t mean it!”

“You let your anger out,” Hector told her, “you let it control you; that will also get you killed in the arena.” Hector paused for a moment, “Would you rather take the punishment yourself than have the girl beaten?”

Slowly Buffy nodded her head.

“Turn around,” Hector ordered.

Gritting her teeth Buffy did as she was told, she cried out as Hector’s whip slashed across the back of her legs three times and her back twice. Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, she turned to face Hector once more.

“You are at least a brave and loyal, girl,” Hector told her quietly, “there is some hope for you yet, come.”

Gesturing for Buffy to follow him, Hector walked over to where a pile of stones lay in a heap against the wall of the yard. Each stone was roughly rectangular and about the size of four house bricks.

“I want you,” Hector pointed at the stones, “to take these and pile them up over there,” he pointed to a spot about six yards along the wall, “be sure you’re finished by the midday meal.”

Working hard, Buffy got all the stones moved and neatly piled up on the spot that Hector had indicated. By the time she’d finished she realised just how out of shape she must be, she’d found the stones heavier than she’d expected. Her muscles ached and her tunic was soaked with perspiration. Standing over her, Hector nodded acknowledging that she’d done a good job and sent her for her midday meal. On her return to the yard he told her that he’d made a mistake and now he wanted her to move the stones back to their original location. By the time training finished for the day, Buffy was exhausted. Every muscle in her body ached and she felt like a limp, damp rag. After she’d eaten her evening meal, Eos appeared and led her away to the women’s bath house where she massaged all of Buffy’s aches and pains away, at least for the time being.

The next morning, Buffy found herself out in the training yard once again waiting for Hector to tell her to do something. Once again he gave her a sword and told her to attack him. This time when he parried her attack he stopped after he’d whacked her on the butt with the flat of his sword. He would then explain where she had gone wrong and tell her to try again. The next time Buffy attacked she managed to catch him a glancing blow to his upper arm. Instead of being angry he seemed pleased and congratulated her…just before telling her to start moving the stones again.

By the third day of training, Buffy was having to run as she moved the stones from one spot on the wall to another. Each morning, Hector would spend a few minutes giving her a fencing lesson before starting her on her exercises. In the evening, she would fall into an exhausted sleep under Eos’ expert fingers and have to be woken up when it was time for her to go to bed. After five days of this, there was a rest day where the gladiators were allowed to sleep in and spend the day playing dice and other games of chance; Buffy noticed that gambling seemed to be a favourite pastime amongst the gladiators 

Spending the day together, Eos taught Buffy some of the games that the other gladiators played, she found that they were mostly simpler versions of tradition games she knew from her childhood. During this time Buffy also got to know Eos better; she discovered that Eos was Greek; she’d been the middle daughter of a trader who’d gone bankrupt and had sold his daughters into slavery to pay off his creditors. Gasping, Buffy expressed her outrage that anyone could treat there own flesh and blood this way, Eos expressed surprise that Buffy was so outraged. As she could speak Latin and Greek, read, write and count, she knew she’d bring a good price and be sold to someone who’d use her as something more than just another girl to fuck and she’d been right. Another thing that shocked Buffy about Eos was that she took, what Buffy considered, an unhealthy interest in sex for a girl of fourteen. Eos just laughed at her and asked if Buffy didn’t like sex or something and adding that Buffy’s people must have some very strange customs.

All too soon the rest day was over with and Buffy once again found herself out in the training yard. This time instead of her usual fencing lesson followed by a day spent moving the pile of stones from one end of the yard wall to the other, she found herself put with the other new or inexperienced gladiators. Here she spent all day going through the numbered ‘forms’. These ‘forms’ were standardised sword strokes and parries that every gladiator had to learn until they could do them without thinking.

Once she’d mastered the sword forms, Buffy and the other trainees were given shields and had to learn a whole new set of forms. This work was boring and tiring, but Buffy found that she was regaining her strength and stamina while at the same time learning a new set of skills. The next time she spared with Hector she was able to press him harder than she’d ever done before. He still won their bouts but she could tell he was finding it harder every day.

After the fourth rest day, Buffy found herself being matched against some of the more experienced gladiators in practice bouts. These men were better than Buffy had at first expected, she still had the expectation of being able to overwhelm any opponent with her speed and strength. Little by little she discovered that she was wrong. Slowly she was learning the lesson that a trained man was harder to fight than the average vampire or demon. A trained man didn’t attack mindlessly like an animal or a vampire; he used his skills and weapons to even out the differences between himself and a stronger opponent. It took Buffy quite a while before she realise that this was why mankind was at the top of the food chain.

Most predators in the world were bigger and stronger than even the strongest man. Humans had no natural protection like fur or scales. They had no natural weapons like sharp claws or teeth. Yet every time man came up against some vicious killer it was mankind that came out the winner. Thinking about this, Buffy wondered if the vampires hadn’t breathed (had they been able to) a sigh of relief when men started to rely on firearms for protection. As she learnt more about the ancient combat arts she came to realise that two or three men with swords were more of a threat to a vampire than any number of men with guns.

0=0=0=0

Having been warned of the direr consequences of getting pregnant, Buffy spent most of any free time she had in Eos’ company. However, she couldn’t spend everyday training with the male gladiators without forming some sort of relationship with a few of them. At first they’d treated her as if she was a carrier of some sort of deadly plague. For the first few weeks she found herself eating alone and being on the receiving end of sexual harassment that would have resulted in the perpetrators being in intensive therapy for the rest of their lives in her own time.

By the time she’d started practice bouts with the male gladiators and they saw that she wasn’t just some little whore playing at being a gladiatrix she started to become friends with a few of the fighters. Others she soon realised would never be able to accept her short of her ramming a sword through their bellies; even then they’d probably claim with their dying breath that it was a lucky blow. 

It was at about this time when she was starting to become ‘one of the boys’ that people began to call her ‘Buffitrix’. Everyone appeared to find ‘Buffy’ hilariously funny and it was generally agreed that she could never go out into the arena and be announced as ‘Buffy’ without the entire audience bursting into hysterical laughter. After a few false starts people settled on Buffitrix; Eos explained that it was a cross between her own name and ‘gladiatrix’ while at the same time sounding a little like the Roman name ‘Bellatrix’ which meant ‘female warrior’. Reluctantly, Buffy accepted her name change as everyone in the school was using it now and it seemed pointless to fight public opinion.

Although, Hector still complained that she was over confident and tended to attack without thought for her defence he grudgingly admitted that she could start taking part in mock contests. These fights usually took place between an experienced gladiator and a trainee. The idea was that the experienced man could get a useful work out without the danger of getting seriously injured. While the trainee got to gain experience fighting a more skilful opponent.

In her first bout Buffy found herself pitted against a Jewish gladiator by the name of David. He was an experienced gladiator with several wins under his belt; Buffy closed her mind to the fact that these ‘wins’ probably meant that a man had died. Before going out to fight she was dressed in leather practice armour on her shoulders, shins and around her waist. Given a sword and shield she was to fight as a Myrmillonitrix which appeared to be her preferred style.

Coming out onto the training yard she found the other gladiators sitting in a big circle; she’d seen this before. The head coach, Sempronius would give a running commentary to the watching gladiators pointing out mistakes made by the fighters in the ring so all could benefit from them. Her opponent, David, like all the other gladiators, was a well muscled man who was taller than her and easily out weighed her, it was at this point that Sempronius made his first observation.

“Notice how small and scrawny Buffitrix looks compared to David,” there were nods of agreement from the audience. “However hard we try to feed our little barbarian up it doesn’t seem to work, she must have hollow legs or something.” 

The seated gladiators laughed, they’d all seen how much Buffy could eat when she wanted to and the more observant of them had noticed that once she got to a certain weight she had just appeared to burn off the excess.

“Those of you who’ve been foolish enough to let her hit you will also know that she’s not as weak as you might think,” Sempronius paused for a moment to let this thought sink in. “this teaches us to not judge our opponents by his or her appearances,” again he paused before shouting, “BEGIN!”

Bringing up her sword and shield, Buffy circled her opponent warily as he did likewise around her. David had no animosity towards Buffy, he appeared neither to like or dislike her and the few times that they had spoken he’d been civil enough. Had she been in the ring with Marcellus she knew he’d be out to try and kill her irrespective of the fact that this was just a practice bout. He seemed to take Buffy’s mere presence at the school as some sort of personnel insult that could only be assuaged by her painful and no doubt permanent removal.

Thrusting at her, David broke Buffy out of her musings about Marcellus and she was only just able to bring up her shield in time to block the thrust at her head. Her own counter attack was weak and badly directed, David parried it with ease.

“Wake up Buffitrix,” Sempronius called cracking his whip, “you can do better than that.”

Nodding her head, Buffy realised that she’d allowed herself to become distracted. Firming her grip on her sword and setting her shield solidly against her left shoulder, Buffy attacked sending a flurry of lightning fast blows at her opponent. Being no fool, David gave ground and parried Buffy’s attacks with sword and shield. Giving ground as Buffy advanced, David waited for his chance to strike back. After warding off a multitude of attacks an opening appeared and he struck out catching Buffy on the side of her jaw.

Stunned Buffy fell to the ground, but managed to cover herself with her shield as David stepped in to finish her off. As the man came in close, Buffy scythed his legs from under him and bounced back to her feet. Unfortunately, David had rolled out of reach and was already getting up to face her again.

“HOLD!” Sempronius called, “Buffitrix, keep your shield up; every time you attack you let it slip as the ringing in your ears is probably telling you right now.” The watching gladiators chuckled good naturedly for the most part. “David,” Sempronius turned his attention to the gladiator, “you’ve seen Buffitrix fight before and you should know that she seems to be able to keep those sorts of attacks going all day. You must try to finish her as quickly as you can before she wears you out…RESUME!”

Once again Buffy and David squared off against each other. Again Buffy launched a vicious and sustained attack and David gave ground hoping for an opening to appear. Eventually Buffy over compensated and lifted her shield too high as David struck at her head. Concentrating on deflecting the sword blow, Buffy walked right into David’s shield as he smashed the edge into her ribs. Finding herself turned around and with the breath knocked from her lungs, she was just a little too slow to stop the sword thrust aimed at her chest. The wooden sword scraped painfully across her ribs, she fell to the ground as a livid bruise appearing on her skin. This time David kept well away from her legs as he brought the tip of his sword to rest against her throat.

“STOP!” Called Sempronius, “Victory to David…Buffitrix come and talk to me once you’ve disarmed but bring your shield you need more lessons with it.”

Looking up Buffy saw David hold out his hand to her, taking hold of it she let the big man pull her to her feet.

“Good fight,” he told her, “you very nearly had me there a few times but you need to practice more with your shield.”

“Yeah thanks,” Buffy looked at the rip in her tunic the sword had made and the red, purple and blue bruise that was developing nicely on her ribs.

“You know,” David turned to lead Buffy back to hand in their practice weapons, “some day you might well be good enough to give Spartacus himself a run for his money.”

0=0=0=0

“Well?” Lentulus asked Hector; the two men had been watching the fight from the balcony overlooking the training yard, “Is she ready?”

“As you saw, Dominus,” Hector said quietly, “she’s still a little lax in her shield work but otherwise I’d say she was.”

“Good,” Lentulus nodded, “it’s time for her to do her civic duty. They’re cleaning out the jail in Veii over the next few days, take Buffitrix and have her kill a few convicts. Do it tomorrow, I want her blooded in time for the games in Alsium understand?”

“Of course, Dominus,” Hector replied gravely.

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Having been told the previous evening that she would be fighting for real the following day, Buffy had spent a restless night wondering if she could actually kill a man. At some point she’d fallen into a fitful sleep where she’d been haunted by dreams of home and her friends. Waking at dawn, she completed her early morning ablutions before going to break her fast after which she returned to her cell where she found Eos waiting for her.

“Hi,” Eos greeted her with a bright smile, the girl always appeared to be happy to see Buffy, “get your tunic off and let me look at your ribs.”

Pulling her tunic off, Buffy stood naked in front of the girl; she didn’t feel embarrassed about being nude around the girl any more. Not after all the times the girl’s strong fingers had eased the aches and pains from her tired body in the bathhouse. Stepping forward, Eos started to unwrap the bandage from around Buffy’s rib cage. As the girl worked Buffy half hoped that Eos would say she couldn’t fight today and put off her having to kill someone for at least one more day. On the other hand she also thought that it might be better to get it over with now and get it behind her.

“By the gods!” Gasped Eos as she bent to examine Buffy’s ribs, “Either my poultices are getting better or you heal really quickly.”

“A little of both,” Buffy smiled as she looked down to where David’s sword had caught her the day before, there wasn’t a mark to show she’d even been hit.

“Does this hurt?” Eos probed the area around where Buffy had been hit with strong but gentle fingers.

“No,” Buffy shook her head.

“Good!” Eos jumped upright, smiled and clapped her hands with glee, “So you can fight today! Here,” Eos turned away and picked something up off Buffy’s bed, “put these on.”

Five minutes later, Buffy was dressed in a short, kilt-like, white skirt, heavy sandals and a frown.

“Is this all I get to wear?” She asked uncertainly.

“Of course,” Eos nodded, “now you’re not all skin and bone you’ve got nice tits, might as well show them off to the crowd.”

“But…” Buffy started to point out that she couldn’t possible travel to Veii dressed in just a skirt and sandals, Eos interrupted her before she could really get started.

“Don’t worry,” Eos sniggered at Buffy’s obvious embarrassment, “there’s a travelling cloak to go with it, you won’t have to travel to town showing off your titties to the world and look I made you this.”

Eos held out a small earthenware container to Buffy who took it and looked at it suspiciously.

“What is it?” Buffy asked as she removed the cork stopper and sniffed the contents doubtfully, whatever it was it smelt slightly perfumed and wasn’t unpleasant.

“Its cosmetics,” Eos explained, “it goes on your nipples and makes them redder and stand out more.”

“I don’t think…” again Buffy was cut off by Eos before she could refuse the gift.

“Look,” Eos sighed sounding a little like Buffy’s mother had when faced with a reluctant daughter, “you don’t have to use it, I just thought you might want something to remind you you’re a girl.”

“Okay,” Buffy reached forward and gave Eos a sisterly hug, “thanks, I’ll see but I don’t think I’ll need it.”

0=0=0=0

It was nearly two hours by cart to Veii, luckily the road between the school and the town was up to the usual, high, Roman standard and reasonably smooth. Sitting in the back of the cart with Caius, another trainee gladiator, Buffy watched the fields roll by as she tried not to think about what she’d be doing later on today.

“First time?” Caius asked.

“Sorry, what?” Buffy replied shaking her head to clear it of her visions of blood soaked sand and body parts.

“First time in the arena?” Caius repeated his question.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head, “first time I’ve had to kill anyone too.”

“Really?” Caius sounded surprised.

“Uh-huh,” Buffy nodded her head again.

“Oh!” Caius scratched his head as he slid along the floor of the cart so he could sit closer to Buffy, the chain around his ankle connecting him to the cart clinking as he did so. “I’m surprised,” he told her quietly, “rumour ‘round the school is that you were some sort of Barbarian Queen who drank the blood of virgins and ate babies.”

“Erm,” Buffy gave her fellow gladiator a lopsided smile, “not so much…not at all even.”

“So, you’ve never actually killed anyone?” Caius asked; Buffy shook her head, “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Caius replied casually, “it’s easy and they’re only criminals.”

“Criminals?” Buffy asked hopefully, if they were criminals who’d done really bad things she could live with that; killing really bad men wouldn’t be wrong, she told herself hopefully.

“Yeah,” Caius settled himself more comfortably next to Buffy and casually rested his hand on her thigh, “murderers, arsonist, bandits that sort of thing.”

“I see,” Buffy peeled Caius’ hand off her leg and dropped it back into his lap; she eased herself a little further along the cart her own ankle chain scrapping along the iron bar that connected her to the cart and prevented her from escaping.

“Of course,” Caius didn’t seem unduly put out by Buffy’s rebuff, “I’ve killed before.”

“You have?” Buffy asked, “When, where?” she stopped herself from asking ‘how many times’.

“Oh, on the streets, I was in a gang, see?” Caius explained, “But this’ll be my first time in the arena…I wouldn’t worry about it, killing’s easy.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Buffy whispered to herself before going back to watching the fields go by.

0=0=0=0

The town of Veii was a small market town that didn’t even have a proper arena. What it did have was an area, about the size of a tennis court, fenced off by heavy chains strung between stone pillars. On the north side of the fighting area was the box where the local Prefect and his hangers-on would sit. Either side of this were the good seats for the local gentry. On the other three sides were seats, rather like bleachers, where the plebes would sit. 

The gladiators would wait for their turn in the arena in a sort of long, iron, corridor-like cage. The exit to which came out opposite the Prefect’s box. The prisoners were held in a similar cage under the seats on the east side of the arena. Behind the gladiators cage under the bleachers was an arming area where the gladiators were dressed and given their weapons. What happened next was surprisingly simple.

The gladiators would sit on the bench in the cage-corridor; as each prisoner was herded out into the arena the first gladiator in line would stand up and go out onto the sand. The remaining gladiators would then shuffle along and await their turn. Once the prisoner was killed (and it didn’t matter if he killed the first gladiator, others would be sent out until he was dead) the victorious gladiator would exit the area by a small gate in the west side. They would then go back to the arming area, get cleaned up and patched up before joining the end of the line again.

All this was explained to Buffy as Hector, who’d been sent along to keep an eye on Lentulus’ investments, armed Buffy and Caius. As this was Buffy’s first fight, it was decided to keep her equipment fairly light; Hector gave her a simple round shield, the normal gladiatorial one being too big for her, and armed her with the traditional short sword, the gladius. He tried to put a helmet on her head but it was far too big and fitted her like a bucket.

“I can’t see anything!” Buffy’s voice echoed from inside the helmet.

“Never mind,” Hector removed the helmet, “I doubt you’ll need it today,” he grinned as a thought came to him, “perhaps it’ll encourage you to keep your shield up and stop any of this scum from knocking your head off!”

“Ha-ha, Coach,” Buffy replied with a frosty look, “very funny.”

“No girl,” Hector looked down at her seriously, “you never know who you might meet in these sorts of fights, ever heard of Titus Pullo?”

“No,” Buffy replied slightly worried now.

“He was condemned to the arena,” Hector told her, “ended up killing eight gladiators before a friend of his pulled him out. Old soldier see, bastard of a fighter too.” Hector nodded his head and smiled wistfully not appearing to notice the frightened look on Buffy’s face; someone who could kill eight gladiators would be a challenge even for the slayer. “Became an important man,” Hector continued with his story, “some say he has the ear of the First Citizen.”

“Gee thanks, Coach that’s all I wanted to hear,” Buffy stood up and went to join the end of the line of gladiators waiting to go into the ‘waiting cage’.

0=0=0=0

The reaction of the other gladiators to her presence was about what Buffy had come to expect. There was the normal, lewd, sexual innuendo, invitations to perform fellatio, some of them good natured and bantering in tone, others gross with an underlying hint of something even more unpleasant. A few of the gladiators ignored her for whatever reasons of their own, while others seemed curious about her; Caius sat next to her and chatted to her in a friendly manner as they sat and waited. He didn’t appear to feel aggrieved about Buffy spurning his earlier advances; in fact he appeared more ready to accept her as a fellow fighter now she’d rejected him sexually. Buffy couldn’t help admiring him for his enlightened reaction.

Sitting about seven gladiators down from the gate, Buffy had plenty of time to see what was going on. It was all very simple…and effective. A naked prisoner was herded into the arena and given a sword. The first gladiator in line would get up, go out onto the sand and after a short fight kill the prisoner and walk off…next please! Having drifted off into a trace, Buffy blinked her eyes and was shocked to discover that there was only one more gladiator left in front of her.

“Oh crap!” Buffy muttered to herself quietly, any minute now she’d be on, she hadn’t felt this nervous since she’d been forced to take part in the Talent-less Show at school.

Needing something to take her mind off her imminent committing of homicide or her own possible death, Buffy took out the little jar Eos had given her from the pouch attached to the belt that held up her skirt. Taking out the stopper she sniffed the contents once again.

“What the hell?” Buffy asked herself and smeared the some of the cosmetic paste onto her nipples; if she was going to die she might as well look good doing it.

Within moments of putting on the paste her nipples started to tingle and go hard.

“That little…” Buffy began but then remembered what Eos had said, she’d told her that it would make her nipples ‘stand out’ and there was no mistaking they certainly were standing out!

Just as these thoughts were going through her mind the gate to the arena swung open and she felt Caius’ hand on her shoulder.

“Just keep telling yourself that they deserve to die,” he whispered in her ear.

Standing up, Buffy was surprised when her legs didn’t immediately turn to jelly, she turned towards the gate.

“Okay,” she told herself after taking a deep breath, “you’re on!”

0=0=0=0

The boo’s of the crowd echoed in her ears as she marched out onto the sand, raised her sword in salute to the Prefect and turned to face her opponent. Unsure whether the mob was booing her or the plump, middle-aged, man standing naked at the other end of the arena; Buffy brought up her shield as she’d been taught and advanced on the convict. Walking across the bloody, offal strewn sand towards her victim, Buffy tried to ignore the ribald laughter and lewd suggestions that reached her ears once the mob had noticed that she was, in fact, a girl. 

The criminal appeared to notice her for the first time when she was only a couple of yards away from him. As his terror filled eyes registered her appearance for the first time, he lost control of his bladder. Urine ran down his legs as his sword fell from his numbed fingers onto the wet sand. Not sure what was supposed to happen next, Buffy took another cautious step towards the man.

“Pick up your sword,” Buffy told him through clenched teeth; why did her first opponent have to look like one of her old school teachers? Why couldn’t he be some hardened criminal with a long list of vile crimes to his name rather than this pathetic looking, businessman? “Pick up your sword and fight me,” Buffy repeated.

“Noooo!” Wailed the criminal, “You’ll only kill me.”

“That’s sorta the point, isn’t it?” Buffy asked.

The prisoner fell to his knees and grovelled at her feet.

“Please don’t kill me,” wept the man, “I’m innocent I tell you! I was framed, why would I burn down my own house with my wife and children still inside?”

Actually Buffy could think of several good reasons but didn’t mention any of them, instead she said; “Look, just pick up the sword and stand up,” she told the man over the increasingly loud boo’s of the mob, “all you have to do is stand there, you don’t even have to fight back or run around.” Buffy pursed her lips in frustration, “Look, I promises I’ll do it quick, it’ll hardly hurt at all!”

Glancing over her shoulder towards the Prefect’s box she saw the man himself and he didn’t look very pleased. Looking over her other shoulder she could see Hector sitting in the audience making frantic stabbing gestures at her, Buffy turned back to look at the prisoner again.

“Oh come-on,” she pleaded, “please get up, I can’t kill you while you’re lying on the ground like that.”

“Then why should I get up?” The convict pointed out reasonably, “I don’t want to die, so if you can’t or won’t kill me while I’m down here, this is where I’ll stay!”

“You can’t stay there forever,” Buffy pointed out as the jeering got louder and people started to throw stuff.

“It works for me,” observed the man as he settled into the sand as if he was willing to stay there until doomsday. 

“Oh come on!” Buffy whined, “It’s my job, I’ll totally get into so much trouble if I don’t kill you,” she kicked the sand with her foot, “It’s my first day on the job too.”

“It is?” The convict looked up at her from the arena floor, “Sorry, I know how important it is to make a good impression on the boss, but you’ve got to see it from my point of view.”

“Yeah, okay,” Buffy sighed as she dodged a particularly noxious missile that’d been thrown at her head, “look I’ll go and ask what I should do.”

“Thanks,” said the man, “and I’m sorry about messing up your first day like this.”

“Whatever,” Buffy shrugged resignedly, “but they’ll probably tell me to kill you anyway.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” called the man as Buffy turned her back on him and walked towards the Prefect’s box.

Later, Buffy couldn’t remember what had made her turn around. Perhaps it had been a shadow crossing the floor of the arena. Maybe it was a slight change in the tone of the boos and jeers coming from the mob. Whatever it was it made her turn and bring her shield up just in time to block the wild swing the businessman-arsonist aimed at her head. Without really thinking about it she buried her sword up to the hilt in his belly. Eyes wide with pain and surprise the man slowly fell to his knees; Buffy pulled her sword from his stomach and watched as his blood soaked into the sand.

“What did you do that for?” Buffy demanded.

“I couldn’t be killed by a mere woman,” groaned the man, “I have my pride...”

“Not any more, you don’t,” Buffy drew back her sword arm and slashed the arsonist’s throat open.

Turning she exited the arena to the jeers and ironic applause of the mob.

0=0=0=0

“What in Hades do you think you’re playing at, girl?” Hector demanded angrily as he snatched Buffy’s sword from her hand while poking her in the chest with the index finger of his other hand. “Have you no sense of honour? Do you hate Eos so much?”

The sound of her friend’s name made Buffy lift her head from where she’d been staring dejectedly at her feet.

“Cos if you do,” snarled Hector, “you’re going to enjoy hearing her scream as I take the skin from her back!”

“But…” Buffy started to object, to explain how the fat-man wouldn’t fight her.

“Look,” Hector stopped her before she’d really begun, “I’m going to ask the Editor if he’ll give you one more chance.”

“Chance?” Buffy replied numbly.

“If he does,” Hector explained, “and if you put on a good show, it might just save little Eos from the beating that _you_ so richly deserve!”

Storming off to find the Editor, Hector left Buffy standing in the middle of the yard wondering what she could do to make this right. If only she’d killed the man as he knelt before her, Eos wouldn’t be going to get flogged. Whatever happened next, Buffy determined to save her friend from the beating even if it meant she had to take it herself.

“Tough luck.”

Turning, Buffy found Caius standing next to her.

“For Eos it is,” Buffy replied miserably.

“Look,” Caius said conspiratorially, “chances are Hector will get you a second chance but it’ll be against someone who’ll actually have a chance of killing you. Make a good show of it, no matter whether you live or die and it’ll probably save the girl…whether it saves you of course is another thing.”

“Yeah,” Buffy hung her head and swore to herself to do better next time.

0=0=0=0

When the two convicts stepped out into the arena the mob actually cheered, they’d jeered Buffy to the heavens when she’d walked out onto the sand. Turning to face her two new opponents, she saw that they were both young men and by the way the crouched and held their swords they knew how to fight. Make a good show of it, Caius had told her, well to save Eos she’d do her best.

With a cry, Buffy launched herself at the first of the criminals while the two men were still trying to outflank her. The men had split apart one moving to her left the other to her right. They obviously intended to attack her from two different directions at the same time. Choosing the man on her right to attack first; he looked the bigger of the two and would leave her unengaged opponent on her shielded side, Buffy launched a ferocious series of attacks.

At first the mob jeered as her sword rang against that of the prisoner’s and she forced him back across the sand. Having beaten him to his knees, Buffy noticed that the mobs jeers were slowly turning to cheers. Unfortunately, the other man ran in to help his friend preventing Buffy from finishing the first man off. Catching the second man’s sword on her shield, Buffy struck out as fast as lightning drawing blood from a long cut she’d made across the man’s chest. The mob howled with joy at the sight of blood and cheered Buffy lustily as she beat the second man to his knees. However, once again his partner stopped her from finishing off his comrade. The mob groaned with disappointment as death was narrowly averted once again.

Looking over the top of her shield, Buffy realised that she’d got the two criminals almost trapped in the corner of the arena. Once she’d got them backed up tightly against the chains that surrounded the sand they’d be at her mercy and this time she’d take full advantage of it. Launching herself at the men she beat down their swords with her own and cut them on their bodies and arms. She saw the desperation in their eyes as the wounds she’d inflicted slowed their attempts at defending themselves.

By the time, Buffy had the two men trapped in the corner of the arena; they were covered in blood while the only blood on her body was that of her opponents. In desperation and realising that it might be the only way to save himself, one of the criminals cast away his sword and fell to his knees to beg for mercy. Stepping forward Buffy thrust her sword into the man’s throat. Blood fountained up into the air and landed across Buffy’s legs and feet. The crowd bayed for more as the first criminal died in the sand at the gladiatrix’s feet.

The surviving criminal, won a meagre amount of respect from the mob by fighting Buffy to the bitter end, even after she’d cut him to ribbons and disarmed him he still tried to make a fight of it. Judging her audience carefully, Buffy administered the killing blow just before the mob started to boo her for drawing out the death of a brave man just a little too long. Drawing back her sword arm she brought it down on the side of the man’s neck cleanly cutting his head from his body. Standing in the middle of the arena, Buffy held her sword and shield above her head acknowledging the cheers of the crowd before walking off the field, the mobs adulation still ringing in her ears.

0=0=0=0

Once in the arming area, Buffy let Hector take her sword and shield away from her.

“Was that good enough?” she asked the trainer, “Will that save Eos from a beating?”

Hesitating for a moment, Hector watched the girl carefully; he didn’t really know what to make of her at times.

“If you must beat someone, beat me!” Buffy turned her back to the man and placed her hands on her head inviting him to use his whip on her back.

Gasping in pain as the whip stung her, Buffy gritted her teeth waiting for the second blow to land.

“Go,” Hector told her, “get cleaned up its time we were heading back to the school, that’s enough for today.”

0=0=0=0

Sitting next to the Prefect of Veii, Senator Marcus Licinius Crassus placed his elbow on the arm of his chair and then rested his chin in his hand. Up until a few moments ago the so-called games he’d been forced to attend had been tedious in the extreme. It was the same old story, worn out gladiators or local volunteers set against petty criminals and street thugs, you almost knew what was going to happen before it’d even begun. But then there’d been the second appearance by the gladiatrix, her first fight had sunk to the level of pure comedy. But her second bout had been something of a revelation, Crassus turned to speak to his personnel slave who was standing just to one side of his chair.

“Aulus,” Crassus whispered, “the gladiatrix, find out what her name is and who owns her.”

“Of course, Dominus,” Aulus replied quietly before slipping from the Prefect’s box.

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**The House of Marcus Licinius Crassus, Rome.**

Looking up from the scroll with its fantastic descriptions of monsters, Marcus Licinius Crassus watched as his most trusted slave, Aulus approached him across the atrium.

“What news?” Crassus asked as the slave came to a halt before him.

“Dominus,” Aulus began his report, “the Gladiatrix you enquired about is known as Buffitrix…

“Buffitrix?” Crassus frowned, “What an odd name.”

“Indeed, Dominus,” Aulus agreed with a slight nod of the head, “sometimes styled as ‘The Barbarian Queen’, at present she is owned by one Lentulus Batiatus and kept at his school.”

“What do we know of this Batiatus man?” Crassus asked.

“He’s a well respected trainer of gladiators,” a female voice came from the other side of the atrium, “as much as any of his trade can be well respected.”

“You may go, Aulus,” Crassus gave the slave a secret sign that told Aulus to wait just outside the door; Crassus turned to face the woman, “Claudia Marius,” he smiled insincerely, “how did you get passed my guards?”

“I came in over the wall behind your kitchen garden,” Claudia smiled as she picked up a goblet of wine from the table where Crassus had been working, “a girl has to stay in practice you know?”

“Indeed I do,” Crassus agreed as he poured wine into another goblet for himself.

He watched the woman sip her wine as she appeared to drift randomly around the room; Crassus knew from long experience that Claudia’s movements were far from random. Her circumnavigation of his atrium would tell her exactly where all his guards were positioned and if he had any pitfalls in place to trap her should they happen to ‘disagree’ over something. Once she appeared happy that Crassus wouldn’t spring any surprises on her she sat down on a handy couch and lay back languidly against its cushions.

“So,” Claudia smiled; she was a tall, attractive woman in her late twenties, beautiful and all the more deadly for it, “how long have you been interested in gladiatrix? I thought you liked your slave girls like you liked your wine,” she smiled again showing strong white teeth, “weak and helpless.”

“I prefer to keep a clear head,” Crassus pointed out, “and what I do with my female slaves is nobody’s business but my own.”

“Oh don’t pout so,” Claudia laughed lightly, “I was only teasing; now tell me what interests you so about this ‘Buffitrix’ girl.”

“I saw her fight the other day,” Crassus started to clear away the scrolls he’d been working on as he spoke, “some grubby little games out in the back of beyond…”

“Oh you poor dear,” Claudia did her best to sound concerned but couldn’t quite carry it off, “you mean you actually had to go outside Rome?”

“Yes,” Crassus sighed dramatically, “the tortures I have to endure for the sake of the Republic.”

“Tortures?” Claudia laughed.

“Have you ridden fifteen miles in a coach lately?” Crassus demanded, “And these fly-blown little provincial towns with their simpering politicians and pathetic games!”

“Apologies,” Claudia replied tongue in cheek, “you have obviously suffered greatly, however, you obviously saw something of interest that made your journey worthwhile.”

Taking a few minutes, Crassus described what he’d seen of the gladiatrix, Buffitrix.

“Hmmm,” Claudia took a contemplative sip of her wine, “Are you suggesting that she may be another Venetrix?”

“It’s a possibility,” Crassus agreed, “but I’d want to study her more closely before I make any approaches.”

“Pretty is she?” Claudia asked pouring more wine for herself.

“Yes, as it happens,” Crassus didn’t like what Claudia was suggesting but he tried to keep his anger hidden, “surprisingly so especially considering what she is.”

“Not all muscles and no tits then?” Claudia’s curiosity was starting to be piqued despite herself.

“No,” Crassus drew a mental picture of the girl in his mind, “she is small, almost fragile in appearance, decent sized breasts about fifteen or sixteen I’d say, certainly no more than seventeen, blonde…interesting nose…” his voice trailed away as his eyes glazed over as he remembered the girl fighting in the tiny arena…perhaps he’d have two of his slave girls fight each other for his entertainment after dinner tonight.

“But strong and fast,” Claudia called Crassus back from his fantasy world of beautiful young Amazons.

“What!?” Crassus shook his head dispelling the pictures in his head, “Yes strong, agile, and very fast.”

“Sounds like a Venetrix to me,” Claudia confirmed, “although it would be unusual to have two live venetrix so close to each other.”

“From what I’ve heard,” Crassus moved across the room to examine the plants that grew in the middle of the atrium, “that Fidelia woman spends all her time fucking her husband and producing hordes of brats…”

“Five at the last count,” Claudia informed Crassus disdainfully, “but my spies tell me she still hunts…between pregnancies of course.”

“Is that so?” Crassus looked at Claudia in surprise, he’d not heard.

“Why so serious?” Claudia watched as Crassus’ look of surprise was replaced by a deep frown.

“I am looking so serious my dear Claudia because a thought has just occurred to me that I don’t like…”

“Do tell,” Claudia sat up to look at Crassus properly, the man did indeed look worried.

“If this Buffitrix girl is indeed another venetrix,” Crassus explained slowly, “what have the gods got in store for us that needs two venetrix to deal with?”

“Yes…yes,” Claudia put down her wine, Crassus’ words had completely spoiled her good humour, “I see what you mean.” Thinking quickly she came up with the outlines of a plan, “Crassus you find out if this girl is indeed a venetrix while I try to discover if there are any apocalypses in the wind.”

“And how will you do that?” Crassus wanted to know.

“Oh, don’t you worry on that score,” a smug smile crossed Claudia’s face, “I know some low people who deal in this sort of thing.”

“Yes I wager you do,” Crassus nodded to himself.

0=0=0=0

**The House of Batiatus.**

“I hear our little ‘Barbarian Queen’ didn’t exactly cover herself in glory at the games in Veii,” Lentulus asked; he’d been away for several days buying stock for the school and had only heard of Buffy’s exploits in the arena the previous evening.

“She did well enough in her second bout,” Hector replied doing his best to defend his student.

“Yes,” Lentulus looked over the side of the balcony and watched Buffy training for a moment, “and that’s the only reason I’ll not put her in the arena to fight until she drops.”

“Begging the Dominus’ pardon,” Hector said slowly, “but that would be a waste of a good fighter.”

“You think she has potential?” Lentulus looked at his secundus exercitor carefully.

“I do,” Hector nodded his head firmly, “she was simply unlucky in her first bout to meet someone whose honeyed words deflected her from her purpose…”

“I’ll not have a soft hearted gladiatrix cluttering up the school only killing opponents that she thinks deserve to die,” Lentulus pointed out.

“She’s not soft hearted,” Hector explained, “but she has a kind heart and a loyal one, I think she’d do anything to protect Eos.”

“She would?” Lentulus lifted an eyebrow and looked once more down to where Buffy trained.

“They are like sisters,” Hector explicated.

Looking up at his Secundus Exercitor, Lentulus smiled absently; he’d always trusted Hector’s opinion of a fighter in the past, but this time he had the feeling that the old gladiator’s judgement might be a little clouded by other considerations. Lentulus himself had started out with a lot of reservations about the little blonde barbarian; he’d trusted the word of friends and men he respected. He freely admitted he wanted this experiment to succeed, but he didn’t want to lose too much money while he was doing it.

“We’ll give her one more chance,” Lentulus told Hector, “we’ll put her in the games at Alsium and see how she fairs in a proper arena.”

“A wise choice, Dominus,” Hector agreed gravely.

“See to it that I’m not disappointed,” Lentulus warned his secundus exercitor, “now go and prepare her well.”

Watching as Hector left via the stairs down to the training yard, Lentulus planned his strategy. He would have the girl drawn against an opponent that she’d normally be unlikely to win against. He would then bet on her to win, the odds would be so long on her winning that he’d only have to put a small purse at risk to earn back hundreds perhaps thousands if she was in fact victorious. If she failed and died, well, he shrugged as he sipped his wine, he wouldn’t have lost too much.

“Dominus?” Lentulus looked up from his contemplations to see Varinia standing a few feet away, he nodded at the young woman.

“What is it my dear?” Lentulus put down his wine and sighed, no doubt some minor problem that only he could solve awaited his attention.

“Your visitors from Rome have arrived, Dominus,” Varinia informed him.

“Gods below!” Lentulus exclaimed, he’d completely forgotten he was expecting anyone this morning; he dredged his memory for who it was he was supposed to meet, “Show them in and serve the, ummm…” Lentulus thought about his visitor’s position; really he was nothing but a scribe and a freed slave at that, but he had the ear of the First Citizen himself. “Serve the second best wine.”

Moments later a short, middle-aged man and his much younger wife were shown into Lentulus’ office.

“My dear Posca,” Lentulus smiled disingenuously, “and the beautiful Lady Jocasta, how nice to see you both again.”

“You can cut out the small talk, Lentulus,” the short grey haired man said brusquely before turning to his charming wife. “My dear, perhaps you would like to go and watch the gladiators training,” Posca glanced at Lentulus and raised an eyebrow, “this is permitted?”

“Of course,” Lentulus bowed slightly and gestured to the balcony, “my slaves will bring you refreshment and anything else you require.”

“Run along my dear,” Posca told his wife, “I will join you presently when I have finished my business with Lentulus here.”

Without saying a word, Jocasta drifted out on to the balcony leaving the two men alone. Originally, Posca had been the slave and scribe of the great Julius Caesar himself. On Caesar’s death he’d been awarded his freedom and after many adventures had ended up working for the First Citizen, Octavian Caesar. He was now a very rich man with a beautiful (if slightly ‘odd’) young wife who adored him. He was also one of Octavian Caesar’s most trusted advisers.

“If we might get straight down to business,” Posca sipped his wine; “I really want to be heading back to Rome as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Lentulus forced a smile; he knew full well when he was being snubbed.

“Although my employer, First Citizen Octavian Caesar, holds no interest in the games,” Posca explained. “There are times when he finds it politic to put on an extravaganza to impress visiting dignitaries and placate the plebes.”

“Indeed,” agreed Lentulus, “and how can I, as a loyal servant of Rome and admirer of the great, Octavian Caesar, help?”

“In about eight week’s time, Caesar will be putting on such a show for a party of visiting dignitaries from the east.” Posca explained, “How many gladiators do you have here?”

“Oh,” Lentulus thought for a moment counting heads, “about twenty trained men, I bought some new stock only yesterday; I dare say some of those may be ready in time.”

“That’s of no account,” Posca replied shortly, “my employer only wishes you to supply fifteen fully trained fighters for the arena, they will fight men from other schools and take part in speciality entertainments.”

“I see,” Lentulus nodded his head, “that shouldn’t be a problem, now, shall we discus payment?”

0=0=0=0

Although the Lady Jocasta played the part well, she wasn’t as stupid as people thought she was. This was one of the reasons she always seemed to land on her feet despite the best efforts of her enemies. Before Caesar’s death she’d been the un-regarded daughter of a wealthy businessman who’d made the mistake of annoying the wrong people in those troubled times. When her entire family had been assassinated she’d run for help to her friend, Octavia; the daughter of the very woman who’d ordered her father and mother killed, the Lady Atia!

Unable to simply murder the girl, Atia had married her off to the newly freed slave Posca. Much to Atia’s chagrin, Jocasta thrived in her new marriage as had Posca in his new found freedom. The pair had even managed to escape the clutches of Queen Cleopatra and change sides just before the war against Mark Anthony had begun. They’d both come up smelling of roses once again. The young woman with the slightly vacant smile perpetually on her face who tended only see the good in others and had the strange ability of bringing it out in them. The girl seemed to be under the personnel protection of Jupiter himself.

Drifting out onto the balcony, Jocasta waited patiently for her husband to complete his work; she knew when to keep quiet and let her darling, little Posca get on with business. Looking down into the yard she watched the heavily muscled, athletic, young men practice fighting amongst themselves. While she did appreciate a good looking young man the idea of taking one of them to her bedchamber never entered her head. Letting her eye wander over the struggling pairs, it eventually came to rest on a lone figure who appeared to be beating a wooden post with a toy sword.

“A girl?” Jocasta asked herself, “How odd,”

0=0=0=0

Swinging her practice sword at the post, Buffy practiced her ‘forms’ against the inanimate object; it was her ‘time of the month’ which made her feel a little cranky so she didn’t like to fight a live opponent for fear of losing control. Today she was concentrating on seeing how fast she could go through the ‘forms’. The all out attack, raining blows on her opponent and not giving him a chance to strike back, appeared to be her preferred method of fighting, so this was good practice. The sound of Buffy’s strikes against the post sounded almost like the sound of hail on a roof as she struck the post with increasing ferocity. Eventually she hit the post so hard that the wooden sword she was using broke. The blade spun away through the air to land a dozen feet away while the hilt remained in her hand.

“Darn,” Buffy said softly as she looked at the remains of the sword; dropping it onto the sand she was just about to get a replacement when a shadow swept over her and blocked out the sun.

Turning to see what had caused the weather to change so suddenly, Buffy looked up…and up…and up, into the face of Marcellus; possibly the largest and meanest looking gladiator in the school. He loomed over her like a mountain, practice sword in one hand and shield on his left arm.

“Fight me, barbarian,” his voice rumbled across the narrow space that separated him from Buffy.

“Erm, yeah, okay,” Buffy replied uncertainly; she wasn’t wholly convinced that Marcellus was fully human, “just let me get a sword and shield.”

“No!” Marcellus snapped, “Fight me now, barbarian whore!”

It had rapidly become obvious to Buffy that Marcellus was not her number one fan. In fact he seemed to take her very existence as a stain upon his own honour that could only be washed away using her blood.

“NO WAY!” Buffy cried as she dodged under Marcellus’ first attack.

0=0=0=0

“POSCA!” Jocasta called her husband as she hung onto the balcony rail and gestured to the yard below. “Do come quickly, you must see this,” she pointed excitedly at the struggling pair, “there’s this perfect brute of a gladiator trying to kill that little woman!”

0=0=0=0

Stepping nimbly away from Marcellus’ attack, Buffy knew that the only way she was going to survive this fight was to not be there when Marcellus landed a blow. Sliding under the giant’s latest thrust at her head, Buffy caught him flat footed and aimed a solid kick at the side of his left knee. The blow, which would have disabled an ordinary man, landed but was soaked up by the cloth padding on Marcellus’ leg. Rolling away from the man, Buffy managed not to be hit as he struck at her three times in rapid succession. Unfortunately the forth attack hit home and she cried out as the wooden blade struck her across the left forearm and sent her tumbling across the sand.

Bouncing to her feet again, Buffy was just in time to trap, Marcellus’ right arm under her own right arm. Wrapping both her arms around Marcellus’ she forced it back against his elbow. Unfortunately she was too short, or he was too tall for her to get enough leverage to either break his arm or even make him drop the sword. Awkwardly, he managed to bring his shield around and catch her on the side of the head with the rim. Seeing stars for a moment, Buffy staggered away from her opponent and fell to the ground once more.

0=0=0=0

“Oh!” Cried Jocasta to her husband, “That’s not fair, she hasn’t even got one of those silly wooden sword things.” She turned blazing eyes on Lentulus, “You must stop this immediately,” she demanded, “its not fair!”

Lentulus was apt to agree with Jocasta and he was frantically trying to attracted the attention of his two exercitori and get them to stop the fight. Unfortunately both men appeared to be fully involved with a scuffle that had broken out on the opposite side of the yard.

0=0=0=0

Lying on her back in the sand, Buffy groaned piteously and put her hand to the side of her head. Through half closed eyes she watched Marcellus loom over her once more as he stood astride her prostrate body, he raised his sword to deliver the fatal thrust. The weapon might be wooden but with all of Marcellus’ strength and weight behind it - it would kill as surely as a metal one.

Judging her moment carefully, Buffy kicked upwards with her right foot just as Marcellus was about to bring his sword sweeping down. The gladiator’s eyes bulged in their sockets as if they were going to pop out of his head as Buffy’s foot came into hard contact with Marcellus’ testis. It was now Marcellus’ turn to groan as he dropped his sword and clutched hold of his bruised tentacles. His knees began to sag as Buffy rolled to one side a little; she placed her left foot behind his left ankle and then struck at his knee with her right foot.

Smiling as she heard the joint pop and dislocate, Buffy rolled out of the way of the falling behemoth. Coming agilely to her feet again she watched as Marcellus crashed onto the ground before moving in for the kill. Aiming carefully for the man’s stomach and resisting the urge to break his ribs, Buffy kicked him so hard that the force of the blow lifted him off the sand and moved him about a foot away from were she was standing. Once he’d landed she brought her foot back to strike him again. Screw ‘not kicking a man when he was down’, Buffy told herself, this asshole had tried to kill her.

0=0=0=0

“OH! BRAVO!” Jocasta cheered as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands with glee at the little woman’s victory. “KICK HIM AGAIN, THE BRUTE!” She called before turning a dazzling smile on her husband, “Please, can we buy her?” Jocasta pleaded, “Please say we can,” she watched her husband hopefully; “Octavia would be sooo jealous if I had my very own gladiatrix!”

Glancing down into the yard again Jocasta saw several men attempt to drag the little gladiatrix away from her fallen foe while she continued her attempts to kick her opponent over the wall surrounding the yard.

“Let her go of her you bullies!” Jocasta cried angrily, “He’s a brute and deserves everything he gets!”

Casting Lentulus a worried look, Posca sent the unsaid message that he wasn’t in the market for gladiatrix bodyguards.

“I’m afraid, Domina,” Lentulus said taking his cue from the woman’s husband, “that unfortunately, Buffitrix is not for sale.”

“She’s not?” Jocasta turned to glare disappointedly at Lentulus, “Couldn’t we hire her then?”

Jocasta really wanted to lord it over her friends, especially Octavia, with her very own gladiatrix, the ultimate status symbol in her eyes.

“You must understand,” Lentulus explained noticing Posca’s frantic looks, “that she’s not a saltatrix or anything like that, she’s a trained killer and at present I’d be doing you a disservice even hiring her out to you…she’s hardly fit for polite company.”

“Oh pooh!” Jocasta’s face fell in disappointment, “I suppose you know best.”

Looking down into the yard Jocasta noticed that it had taken five or six gladiators to drag the little gladiatrix away from the downed Hercules. They’d pulled her away and taken shelter under a veranda on the other side of the yard were a slim girl knelt in front of the gladiatrix apparently trying to calm the angry woman down. Frowning to herself Jocasta sighed; perhaps the creature Lentulus was right after all.

“Perhaps my sweet,” Posca, patted his wife’s arm soothingly, “you’d like a puppy or something else instead.”

“No,” Jocasta pouted, “but thanks for asking all the same,” she thought for a moment, her husband obviously wanted to give her some sort of gift instead of the gladiatrix, she turned hopeful, big brown eyes on her husband, “I wouldn’t mind a couple of new dresses if you want to buy me something.”

“Of course, my pet,” Posca breathed a sigh of relief; he knew that by the time Jocasta had got her hands on a couple of new dresses all thoughts of buying a gladiatrix would have fled from her pretty but empty head.

0=0=0=0

Having had a full report on what had caused the fight between Buffitrix and Marcellus (it was fairly obvious that Marcellus was to blame), Lentulus decided not to have the man punished too severely. A week on half rations plus the pain of his dislocated knee and cracked ribs should be enough of a warning to him.

The fight had proved one thing, however, Buffitrix was a capable fighter able to take on opponents much bigger than herself even when she was unarmed. This thought alone made Lentulus’ ears ring with the sound of gold and silver falling into his purse. Now if he could only arrange things to his liking, Buffitrix would make him a fortune.

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

**Alsium.**

The arena in Alsium was everything that Buffy could remember about arenas from her school history lessons. It was big, the fighting area was five or six times the size of the arena in Veii. The seats where the audience sat rose high into the air all around the arena and everything was made out of solid looking blocks of stone, this place had been built to last and house thousands of spectators.

The gladiators from Lentulus’ school had arrived in Alsium the previous afternoon having spent half the day travelling along the straight Roman roads in a couple of carts. They’d slept that night in a barracks that had been especially built for visiting gladiators. When they’d risen at dawn they’d completed half an hour’s warming up exercises before marching between two lines of soldiers to the arena itself.

On first catching sight of the arena, Buffy had to admit to being more than a little impressed; photographs of ruins or artists impressions just didn’t do the place justice. The gladiators were marched into the area below the arena itself through a big iron gate which was locked securely behind them. Under the arena was a labyrinth of tunnels, holding cells, armouries and even kitchens. The Lentulus gladiators were led by Sempronius to a waiting area as most of them wouldn’t be needed until the afternoon. Some of the more experienced fighters wouldn’t be required until the next day or even the day after (it being a three day event). As one of the least experienced (read most expendable) fighters, Buffy found she’d be fighting at about mid afternoon in what was called a ‘novelty match’.

Trying not to worry too much about what a ‘novelty match’ might entail, Buffy climbed up onto a bench and watched the proceedings in the arena through a barred window set in the wall of the holding area. From here, she got a worm’s eye view of what was going on in the arena itself. First on, even while the audience was still getting itself settled and before the important people had arrived, was a big crowd of condemned criminals. Climbing up on the bench beside her, Caius (who’d been to the games many times as a spectator) explained what was going on. The group of twenty to thirty naked and desperate men were set to fighting and killing each other with swords; Caius told her that they’d probably been told that the last man standing would be freed; this ensured a good and desperate fight. What would actually happen was that the last man would be dispatched by a gladiator. 

Sure enough as the last man stood battered and bleeding over the bodies piled at his feet, a gladiator walked over to him. After a short struggle this man was killed and the arena slaves started to clear away the bodies. Oddly, Buffy felt more curious than sickened by what she was seeing; after all she’d killed three men in the arena herself. In her previous life she’d killed almost fifty vampires and demons during her short career in Sunnydale. It would have been hypocritical of her to claim to be disgusted at what was going on around her. Yes, she could have refused to fight or even train, but that would have led to her own and probably Eos’ death and what would that have served? Nothing; Buffy had decided that she’d try and keep herself alive and earn enough prize money so she could buy her own and Eos’ freedom and leave all this blood and sand behind her.

While the slaves were dragging off the corpses of the criminals, the clowns came on. These weren’t like the clowns she knew from her own time (who to be honest, Buffy wouldn’t mind seeing getting killed in the arena) these were more condemned prisoners. This time, as well as having a sword, each man wore a helmet, Caius explained that the helmets had no eyeholes so the ‘clowns’ were effectively blind. The crowd laughed at the men’s wild antics or called helpful advice to them as they lashed out blindly with their swords. Slaves armed with hot irons prevented the dozen or so clowns from straying too far from the centre of the sand.

Eventually the last of the bodies was dragged away and the surviving clowns were disarmed and herded out of the arena; Caius told her that they’d be back during the intermissions between the proper bouts. After the clowns came the first of the gladiatorial contests. These were between inexperienced gladiators undergoing their first taste of the arena. Had she not fought in Veii, Buffy knew that she’d have been sent out there to fight. Not that she was scared exactly, she was confident in her skills and abilities, she was just nervous waiting for her turn to go on.

“It’ll go on like this for the rest of the morning,” Caius informed her as he climbed down from the bench before asking, “Do you wanna go somewhere and fuck?”

“What!?” Buffy turned away from the window and looked down at the man.

“Well,” he shrugged as he looked up at her, “I can tell you’re nervous, a quick fuck will take your mind off things, steady your nerves, y’know?”

“Thank-you for asking, but _no_ ,” Buffy replied firmly, “in fact a whole world of _no_!”

“Oh well, suit yourself,” again Caius shrugged his shoulders, “I thought I’d ask being your friend an’all,” he paused before giving it one last try, “and you never know this could be your last chance.”

“Gods below!?” Buffy tried to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention to herself, “What is it with you people and all the blood and sex, you’re as bad as vam…” 

Quickly Buffy stopped herself from saying ‘vampires’.

“Life’s short,” Caius pointed out, “you might as well enjoy it while you can.”

“Thanks,” Buffy fought to stop herself from smiling at the guy, she didn’t want to encourage him, by his lights he was doing the friendly thing, or perhaps he just wanted to screw her, whatever, “maybe some other time, okay?”

With another shrug, Caius wandered off to join some of the other gladiators who were playing dice on the floor of the holding area. He played for a while but eventually he wandered back over to join Buffy as she watched the fighting out on the sand.

“Hey,” Buffy glanced around at Caius, “about earlier, look in my position I have to be careful about getting…” for a moment embarrassment got the better of her before she forced the words out (she could be dead by the end of the day so what where a few little words, she told herself), “y’know…pregnant.”

“Look,” Caius grinned at her, “if that’s all your worried about I promise to take it out before I come.”

“Oh,” Buffy laughed, “like, yeah! I’m supposed to totally believe that?” Caius looked at her guiltily, “That’s one of the three great lies, right up there with; ‘lend me five denarius until tomorrow’ and ‘of course I love you’!” Buffy had picked up these phrases from Eos, she frowned at herself, that girl was starting to be a bad influence on her.

0=0=0=0

After the midday meal, Caius went away to get armed and ready for his bout, he was fighting in a match a couple of spots ahead of Buffy’s. All too soon Sempronius called Buffy from the holding area to the arming area. As she followed the trainer along the tunnels as the butterflies in her stomach beat their wings enough to raise a hurricane. Her legs felt like they were turning to jelly and her bladder seemed like it was full to bursting point. Just nerves, she told herself, on patrol in Sunnydale she’d often felt nervous, but there she was going out looking for a fight that might or might not happen. Here she was heading for a fight whether she liked it or not.

Standing in the middle of the arming area, Buffy watched with interest as Sempronius oversaw the two slaves that were helping her into her armour. Today she wore a chainmail sleeve on her right arm. This would, of course protect her arm and make it difficult for her opponent to knock her weapon from her hand. Grieves were put on her legs to protect her shins and she was given a bronze helmet that would not only protect her head but also her face. The helmet was unadorned by either feathers or plumes, unlike the round shield she was given. Holding it up in front of her, Buffy saw that a large, rampant, stylised penis had been crudely pained on its bronze face.

“Sheesh!” Buffy breathed as she looked to Sempronius for an explanation, “What’s with the like…y’know, thingy, Coach?”

“Today, young Buffitrix,” Sempronius smiled at the look of disgust on Buffy’s face, “you will play the part of Aegea, Queen of the Amazons!”

“Who?” Buffy asked as she slid the shield onto her arm.

“Do you know nothing girl?” Sempronius shook his head at the lack of knowledge displayed by barbarian queens and a short, blonde, gladiatrix in particular, “Never mind,” he sighed, “I must leave you now,” he told her. “When you’re called, go up that corridor where the attendants will give you your sword. Make sure they give you a gladius, that’s what you’re down for, but sometimes they make mistakes…”

“Jesus!” Buffy exclaimed, that sort of incompetence might get her killed.

“Fight well,” Sempronius held her at arms length by the shoulders, “and if the need be, die bravely I’ll be watching you.”

“Gee Coach,” Buffy breathed quietly as she watched Sempronius walk away, “thanks for the wicked cool pep-talk!”

0=0=0=0

Sitting in the dusty little vestibule behind the gate that led out onto the arena proper, Buffy threw her sword up into the air, watched it spin end over end and caught it by the hilt as it started to fall to earth. It was a good businesslike sword, well made and balanced, she felt confident that it wouldn’t let her down. What she didn’t feel confident about was the fact that she was still sitting here, alone and with no idea what she was going to face. Also, if she was this ‘Queen of the Amazons’ woman, shouldn’t she have some Amazons to keep her company?

Putting her eye to a crack in the wooden gate that separated her from the arena, Buffy saw that the previous bout was still going on. The two gladiators were too evenly matched for there to have been a quick decision and so the fight had gone on longer than expected. The crowd was getting bored and starting to show their impatience, by the time it was Buffy’s turn out on the sand they’d be wanting blood and wouldn’t be too fussy as to how they got it.

Sitting with her back against the wall of the chamber, Buffy fiddled with the plume holder on her helmet. Deciding that if she got to keep it she’d get a pretty plume or something for it; distracted she didn’t at first notice the gaggle of girls being herded along the passageway towards her. Looking up at the sound of nervous, girlish chattering, Buffy saw more than a dozen mid to late teenage girls being pushed into the little waiting area with her.

“HEY!” Buffy shouted out as she jumped to her feet before climbing up onto the bench to avoid being crushed against the wall by this mass of naked, teenage flesh, “What the freaking Hades is going on?”

A guard pushed his way between a couple of the girls and looked at Buffy over the tops of their heads.

“Your army, your majesty,” he laughed before disappearing down the corridor leading to the arming room.

“WHAT!?” Buffy shook her head in dismay; this had the prospect of turning into a really bad day. “HEY! HEY!” Buffy shouted trying to get the girl’s attention.

Doing a quick head count, Buffy saw that there were fifteen of them all between the ages of about fifteen and twenty. Some clutched swords and bronze shields much like her own and had helmets pushed up onto the backs of their heads. A lesser number, maybe four or five were armed with small round shields plus three or four short throwing spears. Sighing, Buffy realised she was supposed to lead this mob and fight…but fight what?

“I don’t suppose any of you actually know how to use those weapons?” Buffy asked as the girls quietened down and turned to look at her.

“We’ve been training with them for a week, Domina,” A tall dark haired girl informed Buffy hopefully.

“A whole week, eh?” Buffy shook her head in despair, “Okay, show of hands, who’s got swords and shields?” About two thirds of the hands were raised hesitantly into the air, some still clutching swords, “Careful with those things, you could kill someone and I’d much prefer you did it out there,” she nodded towards the arena, “Now who’s got spears?” As she suspected five of the younger girls carried throwing spears.

“Look,” Buffy surveyed the frightened faces looking up at her, “it’s obvious that I’m supposed to lead you through this, whatever _this_ is…”

“Why?” Demanded a short red haired girl from the middle of the crowd.

“Because I’m the gladiatrix,” Buffy informed her, “that’s why…now I’ll try to get as many of you through this as possible. But it’ll help if when we get out there we all stay together, right?” Buffy looked at the terrified faces and wondered if she was getting through to any of them, “Whatever’s waiting for us out there, it’ll be safer if we all stick together and you do what I tell you.”

A great roar rose from the throats of the mob and drowned out the rest of what Buffy was going to say. Oh-well, she sighed to herself, it didn’t matter; her ‘army’ probably wasn’t listening to her anyway. Looking through the crack in the gate again she saw one of the gladiators being dragged off towards the ‘Gate of Death’ while his opponent acknowledged the relieved cheers of the crowd.

“Won’t be long now,” Buffy called, “those of you with them, put on your helmets and everyone check your weapons.”

Picking up her own helmet, Buffy placed it firmly on her head. The eye slit was big enough not to seriously interfere with her ability to see things, it cut down on her peripheral vision but she could live with that, it was better than having her head cracked open and her brains spilt out onto the arena floor. Holding her sword behind her shield in her left hand she checked the straps above and below her breasts that held her chainmail sleeve in place. Just as she was about to take her sword in her right hand again, she remembered something. Quickly taking Eos’ little jar from the pouch on her belt, she smeared some of the red stuff onto her nipples. Within moments they’d started to tingle and go hard.

“For luck,” she told herself as the gate swung open and the mob roared in anticipation.

0=0=0=0

“FOLLOW ME!” Buffy called as she ran out onto the sand hoping that her ‘army’ was actually going to follow her.

After the darkness of the underworld beneath the arena the bright sunshine of the open air blinded her for a moment. However, thanks to slayer eyes that adapted quickly to changes in light and dark, Buffy was the first to see what she was going to have to fight.

“DWARVES!” Buffy yelled in surprise, “You’ve got to be kidding me…dwarves?”

Sure enough not more than thirty yards away stood thirty or forty of the vertically challenged in an untidy mass clutching spears, swords and axes.

“Damn-it-to-Hades,” Buffy cursed under her breath, “at least two to one odds,” she turned to the bewildered girls who huddled behind her. “DEFENSIVE LINE!” Buffy shouted as she pushed the girls with swords and shields into a rough line, fortunately some of the girls seemed to get the idea and started to move like they wanted to survive.

“Girls with spears!” Buffy moved up and down behind her line, “Watch the flanks,” Buffy saw the puzzled looks on the younger girl’s faces as they stood clutching their javelins. “Watch the ends of the line make sure no one gets behind us!”

Before she could say anything else, Buffy heard the dwarves cheer and yell as they started to rush towards the frightened line of Amazons. The plebes yelled their appreciation of what promised to be an interesting and bloody fight. Pushing her way through the centre of the line Buffy settled her shield in place and waited for the short charge to hit home.

“STEADY!” Buffy shouted over the roar of the crowd, “HOLD THE LINE!” she could almost feel some of her warriors begin to falter even before the charge hit home.

“Gods below!” Buffy muttered as she watched the diminutive warriors cover the ground at a surprisingly fast pace, just standing waiting wasn’t going to work.

“GO RAZORBACKS GO! CHARGE!” Buffy yelled her old school cheer as she raised her sword and rushed at the approaching wave of _grumpy_ midgets; she sensed that at least some of the sword armed girls had rushed forward with her.

Colliding with her far from _bashful_ enemy (none of them were wearing a stitch of clothing) Buffy smashed the rim of her shield into one dwarf’s face while she took the head off another with her sword. Spitting blood and teeth onto the sand the first dwarf was trampled under foot by his fellows. Not being _dopey_ , Buffy ignored her first two victims and laid about her with her sword, slicing off fingers, hands and arms as she forced her way through the press of squat bodies.

Very quickly the dwarves learnt that approaching the lethal, gladiatrix was tantamount to committing suicide and they were _happy_ to leave her be and concentrate on easier game. Finding herself un-assailed for the moment, Buffy crouched behind the protection of her shield and took the time to look around. Her ‘army’ was in complete disarray; a few of the girls had charged with her while others had given way to panic and a few more had just stood there in terror and allowed themselves to be cut down.

On the plus side about half the sword girls were still fighting, usually in pairs standing back to back; while the two surviving girls with javelins had picked up the spares from their fallen sisters and were at the moment keeping a small force of dwarves at bay. On other parts of the field a couple of injured girls were being gang raped (much to the amusement of the mob) by dwarves who couldn’t get their priorities straight.

Turning Buffy rammed her sword into the chest of a _sleepy_ headed dwarf who’d not got the memo about steering clear of her. Yanking the sword from the chest of the dwarf, Buffy trotted over to where the first pair of Amazons still fought. Quickly she dispatched the three dwarves attacking the girls.

“Follow me,” Buffy told the girls, “watch my back!”

Together they trotted across the sand towards the next group. Again the dwarves fell to Buffy’s blade. The crowd realising what was going on and quickly changed their allegiance. They stopped cheering for the dwarves and began supporting the Amazons. As the size of the Amazon wedge increased, each isolated group of dwarves was dispatched with increasing speed. Eventually the Amazons forced the few remaining dwarves on to the defensive.

“Okay!” Buffy brought her little force to a halt, unlike some of the girls she was hardly breathing even slightly heavily, “lets hold it here for a moment.”

“See those freaks,” Buffy pointed with her sword to where the remaining dwarves huddled with their backs against the wall of the arena. “They thought they could beat you and rape you, you’ve proved them wrong and now its our turn to punish them, right?”

“Right!” Gasped the surviving girls trying to sound fierce and warlike.

“In a moment I’m gonna charge and kill them all,” Buffy shifted the position of her shield slightly, “ARE YOU WITH ME AMAZONS!?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and ran towards her foes yelling her new warcry, “I’M BUFFITRIX! KILL THEM ALL!”

Crashing into the disordered ranks of stunted adversaries, Buffy started to cut and thrust left and right. Blood fountained into the air as limbs pin-wheeled across the arena to land with dull, wet thuds in the sand. The screams of dying dwarves mixed with the triumphal cries of the vengeful Amazons as they thrust there weapons into the bodies of their enemies.

After ramming the tip of her sword into the screaming mouth of a dwarf, Buffy yanked her blade free with a flick of the wrist that almost took the top of the dwarf’s head clean off. Turning to seek out another opponent she found them all lying dead at her feet dripping blood onto the sand. Counting up her survivors, Buffy found she’d saved seven of the Amazons, perhaps a few of the wounded might be saved as well. But half was better than she’d expected.

Leading the survivors into the middle of the arena, Buffy noticed the cuts on her legs and body for the first time. None of the wounds was serious but she’d have to see the _Doc_ when all this was over. Raising her arms above her head to acknowledge the cheers of the mob, she tried to ignore the dust that got up her nose and made her feel really _sneezy_. Pulling off her helmet she heard the crowd start to chant her name.

“BUFFITRIX! BUFFITRIX! BUFFITRIX!”

Lowering her arms, Buffy shrugged and started to lead the surviving Amazons towards the Gate of Life. So, the mob knew her name, chances were by the start of the next fight they’d have forgotten it again. To her that was not important, what was important was the prize money she’d get that would eventually allow her to buy Eos’ and her own freedom.

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

8.

**The Games, Alsium.**

“Will she live?” Lentulus’ joy at seeing Buffy’s victory the previous day and the subsequent collecting of his winnings; was tempered by the fact that his latest champion fighter had not woken up since she’d collapsed in the arena.

Pulling back the light blanket that covered Buffy, he studied the bruises that appeared to cover almost every inch of her body. He prayed there was nothing permanently wrong with her. Already he’d had a couple of interesting offers from other owners to breed their best gladiators with her and buy any male children she might produce. He’d also had a few offers to buy her outright, but Lentulus had refused them all. He had his own plans for Buffy all of which involved him keeping tight control of where, when and who she fought. Already she’d earnt him more money than he’d seen for a long time, which was now under guard in his strong boxes back at his rooms. If he planned things correctly and didn’t get too greedy, Buffitrix would win him fame, fortune and respect plus a large villa with plenty of willing slave girls to retire on. However none of this would happen if she didn’t wake up.

“Well,” Lentulus repeated, “will she live?”

“That is in the hands of the gods,” Sempronius told him slowly, “it is in my mind that she sleeps to let her body heal.”

“You think?” Lentulus cast a worried glance at his Primus Exercitor.

“I’ve seen it before,” Sempronius confirmed, “she’ll wake when she’s good and ready…or not at all.”

“Look,” Lentulus was starting to worry that his road to fame and riches was going to be snatched cruelly away before it was fully in his grasp, “why isn’t she in the hospital if she’s that sick?”

“Dominus,” Sempronius turned a withering eye on his master, “the medicus here is a drunken butcher, he’s more likely to fuck Buffitrix than cure her.”

“He is?” Lentulus was taken aback by the bitterness in Sempronius’ reply.

“Yes,” the old warrior nodded his head slowly, “in future we’d do better to bring Eos with us, she at least knows how to bide a man’s wounds properly.”

“She does?” Lentulus scratched the back of his head as he thought the idea over, “I’ll give it some thought,” he promised, “but in the mean time, who’s been watching over her?”

“Caius, Dominus,” Sempronius gestured to the young gladiator standing a few feet away.

“Well?” Lentulus asked the fighter, “How is she?”

“She calls for her mother,” Caius shrugged, “as you might expect, Dominus. Sometimes she seems to be talking to people who aren’t here, but I think when she awakes she’ll be sane and well enough.”

“I hope so,” Lentulus eyes fell on Buffy’s bent and twisted helmet; it’d need replacing…more expense! “Did anyone check to see if her skull was cracked?”

“First thing I did, Dominus,” Sempronius said, “her skull is whole though her brains may still be addled.”

“You are such a cheerful soul, Sempronius,” Lentulus fixed the man with a hard stare, “has anyone told you that?”

“Many times, Dominus,” Sempronius replied sadly without even a trace of sarcasm.

“Well,” Lentulus turned to leave the waiting area under the arena, “let me know as soon as she awakes.”

0=0=0=0

**‘Magicus Rana’, the Aventine, Rome.**

Standing in the doorway to the back room of the magic shop, Aeneas watched his step-mother sit on the floor casting a jumble of small bones across the floor. After each cast of the bones, she’d carefully collect them up muttering to herself darkly as she did so. Occasionally she’d say something in a language he didn’t recognise or consult some ancient Greek text. Whatever she did or said, after each casting she looked more and more worried and that in turn worried him because he loved his step-mother as if she was his real mother.

Although he would always remember and love his real mother, the Great Queen Cleopatra, it’d been the wise woman sitting on the floor in front of him who’d looked after him since he’d arrived in Rome. She’d been the one who’d listened to him recite his lessons; she’d been the one who’d tended him when he was sick or comforted him when he was upset or frightened. His step-mother was also so much more fun than his real mother had ever been; she’d told him amazing stories of the fantastic land she’d come from and shown him magic tricks that were real magic and not just slight of hand. Although he’d always honour the memory of his real mother, Shani the Wise Woman, wife of his father, Titus Pullo, was and always would be his _real_ mother so when he saw her like this, with the roots of her red hair turning black it frightened him.

“Mother,” he called nervously, “what’s wrong?”

“Agh!” Willow looked up at the boy, she smiled reassuringly as she placed her hand on her chest, “Oh you frightened me, I didn’t notice you there.”

“What’s wrong?” Aeneas repeated taking a step towards Willow.

“Nothing for you to totally worry about, honey,” Willow climbed to her feet, “how’d you like to come with me and visit you Auntie Fidelia?”

Willow smiled at the boy’s eager nod, he was twelve and starting to take an interest in girls and one of the girls he was starting to take an interest in was Faith’s eldest daughter, Fidelia the Younger.

“Right then,” Willow grinned at the boy’s obvious eagerness, “get your cloak while I find that silly girl Drusilla.”

Watching as Aeneas ran from the shop, Willow reflected that a simple visit to her friend and fellow castaway in time took a lot of planning. Titus and Lucius her two sons were over in the tavern where Vorena the Younger would be keeping an eye on them for her. He daughter Zofiya would have to come with her because she was still breast feeding and Willow didn’t approve of wet nurses. Finally Drusilla would have to be left in charge of the shop where hopefully the silly girl wouldn’t sell something that would poison her customers. Sighing, Willow shook her head, Drusilla was a sweet girl, unlike her up-time vampiric namesake, but like the vampire Drusilla she was just a little ‘strange’. Perhaps, Willow thought, as she listened to Aeneas’ sandals pounding on the floorboards, it was time to buy a slave girl who was of more use than for just sweeping up and doing all the hard tedious work which Willow couldn’t be bothered with.

“Ready!” Aeneas appeared in the doorway slightly out of breath.

“Have you got your knife?” Willow asked as she picked up Zofiya and placed her in a sling across her shoulder.

“Of course, mother,” Aeneas rolled his eyes at his parent before showing her his knife which was really more like a small sword in his young hand.

“Good, then we’re ready to go!” Heading for the street, Willow once again cautioned Drusilla about selling things to people that she shouldn’t and stepped out into the street.

0=0=0=0

After a mere ten minute walk, Rome really wasn’t that big, Willow found herself outside the gate to Faith’s town villa. As usual, she felt just a twinge of jealousy. Okay, Titus and herself weren’t poor by any means. They were in fact comfortably off and were people to be respected in their own little world of the Aventine. But, Faith was rich, like mega rich. The villa Willow was now standing outside of was Faith’s Rome villa; she had another much larger, grander one in Pompeii and a third in the mountains to the north of the city for when it got too hot in Rome.

Who’d have thought that the slutty girl from Boston could have made such a success in ancient Rome? Of course it hadn’t hurt with her marrying well; Marius Arsenius had made his first fortune in slaves. When he’d married Faith, who was by then a famous gladiatrix and venetrix, she’d made him cut back on his slave trading. He now made more money than he could comfortably spend importing luxuries from the East. Faith’s anti-slavery principles hadn’t stopped her opening armouries that supplied Rome’s armies with armour and weapons. However her slaves were well looked after, paid and likely to be freed after five or ten years service in her workshops.

Lifting her hand, Willow knocked on the door, after what felt like an interminable wait the gate was finally opened by Faith’s butler.

“Can I help you?” The man looked down his long nose at Willow as if she was some common street beggar.

“Shani of Alexandria, wife of Titus Pullo to see your Mistress the Lady Fidelia,” Willow replied formally, she had to go though this rigmarole every time she came to visit.

“Is the Lady Fidelia expecting you?” Sniffed the butler.

“No,” Willow held on to her temper, ‘bloody haughty slaves’, she thought, “but I’m sure she won’t whip you too badly if I tell her I called and you wouldn’t let me in!”

By her side, Aeneas stifled a laugh while his step-mother restrained herself from giving Faith’s butler a magical hot-foot.

“If you’d like to wait inside,” the butler stepped aside to let Willow in, “I’ll see if my mistress can see you.”

Walking into the cool of the house, Willow looked around and tried to suppress her envious sighs. Her friend had all sorts of nice things, silks and vases and couches and the drains didn’t smell like they did up on the Aventine…

“YO! RED!” Faith rushed across the mosaic covered floor to give her friend a big slayer strength hug, “How ya doin’?”

“Fine,” Willow gasped as she fought for air.

“Hey!” Faith let go of Willow and turned to greet Aeneas, “How’s my little soldier?” She gathered the lad to her matronly bosom and hugged him.

“Pleased to see you again Aunt,” Aeneas mumbled formally from deep inside Faith’s cleavage.

“Hey, kid,” Faith let the boy go and glanced at Willow, “I can tell by the look on ya mom’s face that she doesn’t approve and wants to talk business.”

Nodding her head Willow agreed on both counts.

“Why don’t ya run off an’ find my brood,” Faith suggested, “I think Fidie has something she wants to show ya.”

Aeneas looked hopefully at Willow who nodded her permission and watched as her step-son shot off in search of Faith’s eldest daughter.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Willow said as the two women walked over to the atrium, “I’m trying to teach him some respect for women and it doesn’t help when you bury the boys head between your boobs like that.”

“Spoil-sport,” Faith teased as she gestured towards a couch for Willow to lie down on, “frightened he’ll get the hots for slutty Aunt Fidelia?”

“No, not really,” Willow admitted, “I know you’d never let it go any further but…”

“Okay, okay,” Faith held up her hands in defeat, “I’ll cool it with the kid; anyway you know he only comes over so he can be with Fidie.”

Just as she was about to open her mouth, Willow snapped it shut again. Perhaps she was getting a bit prudish in her old age after all, boys will be boys. All things considered she’d rather Aeneas be a ‘boy’ with Faith’s daughter than one of the tavern whores. Goddess! Came her next thought, how she’d changed over the years in her old life she’d never have thought like that.

“Ya want one of my girls to look after Zofiya for ya?” Faith asked as she signalled for one of her attendants to come and take the child from Willow.

“Please,” Willow took the sling from around her shoulders and held the baby on her lap while Faith cooed over the child for a moment before she was taken into the care of Sabia, Faith’s nurse maid.

“So,” Faith sipped wine from a goblet, “much as I enjoy your visits I can tell by ya black roots that this isn’t entirely a social call, what’s up?”

“I had a visit from that woman, Claudia Marcus,” Willow began but was interrupted by Faith’s angry comment.

“Wished I’d know she was back in town, I’d’ve had the bitch killed,” showing great restrain Faith placed her goblet gently on the table next to her couch, “what did she want?”

“Came to ask me about apocalypses,” Willow explained quietly, “particularly if there’s any on the way.”

“Are there?” Faith shifted on her couch as if she was about to spring to her feet and go grab her weapons.

“Not that I can see,” Willow shrugged as she took a sip from her own goblet of watered wine.

“Then why?” Faith lay back down on her couch, she trusted Willow implicitly about things like approaching apocalypses. “Gotta say there’s been no real increase in vamps or beasties on the streets.”

Rome was unusually free of vampires and demons; what few there was were thinned out by Faith when she wasn’t pregnant and people like Claudia Marius when she was. The major difference was that Faith did it out of a sense of duty, it was her calling. The Invigilators, of which Claudia Marius was one, did it for profit and the influence it gained their organisation.

“So, why is the killer bitch worried about the end of the world?” Faith wanted to know.

“Looks like there might be a new slayer in town,” Willow said softly, “there’s been reports of a gladiatrix who exhibits unusual strength and speed, you get the picture?”

“Crap,” Faith sighed and shook her head slowly, “you sure?”

“The bones seem to confirm it,” Willow pointed out, “If she is a slayer we need to find her before the Invigilators get their claws into her.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed quietly.

When Faith had first turned up in the world of the past she’d spent a couple of years as a gladiatrix, she’d thought she’d be tough enough for the job; she thought that killing people on an almost daily basis wouldn’t change her. She’d been wrong and she’d got out of the gladiatrix business as soon as she could. Of course in her day it was all about executing criminals and staging fixed fights. Nowadays it was all about the killing, she was glad she’d left when she had. Hunting and fighting beasts had been a much better and just as profitable a trade to go into.

“Any idea where she’s hold up?” Faith wanted to know.

“Not yet,” Willow admitted, “I’ve started scrying for her and I’ve got people out looking for her too.”

“I’ll have my people keep their eyes open too,” Part of Faith’s business included market stalls selling knives, tools, pots and pans to the general public; each stall was run by an ex-soldier. They made a remarkably efficient intelligence service. “I mean something like a slayer in the arena is bound to get people’s lips flappin’.”

“We’ve got to get to her before Crassus and his people do,” Willow warned.

“That creep in on the deal too?” Faith looked at Willow sharply, but then relaxed, as she answered her own question, “I suppose if that bitch Claudia is in on the job, Crassus will be sniffing around her tail too.”

“You know what Crassus will do if her gets his hands on the girl?” Willow shifted on her couch so she could see Faith more clearly.

“He’ll probably try to fuck her first,” Faith pointed out.

“Depends how old she is,” Willow shrugged, “any girl over fifteen is way too old for him.”

“Ya know, Red,” Faith said slowly, “once we find out what’s goin’ on here, what say we do something about these Invigilators, like permanently?”

“You mean kill them?” Willow didn’t sound as if she would be against the idea.

“Nah,” Faith glanced over at her friend, “I’m getting too old an’ fat to be climbing through windows an’ cuttin’ people’s throats in the middle of the night.”

”So, what then?” Willow wanted to know, “I suppose I could give them a real bad dose of the magical pox.”

“No need,” Faith grinned at the idea of Crassus with the magic pox, “Octavian still owes me a favour or two.”

“You think the First Citizen would totally do something like that just for you?” Willow didn’t sound convinced.

“Hey, look,” Faith had picked up on Willow doubt, “I was his first fuck, something like that’s bound to make an impression on a guy like him.”

“Yeah,” Willow nodded her head, “but you also screwed Brutus an’ look what happened to him!”

0=0=0=0

**A cart heading for the House of Batiatus.**

Lying back in Angel’s arms, Buffy felt his lips brush hers; she moaned softly as she felt his cool hand slide across her body to caress her breast. Suddenly the earth moved! Thinking that this should be happing at a much later point in the proceedings, Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and she started to take in her surroundings. First of all, she noticed that it was daylight, a clear blue sky spread itself out above her so it was fairly safe to bet that the strong arms around her and the muscular chest her head was resting against didn’t belong to Angel.

Moving her head slightly, Buffy saw that she was in fact half lying, half sitting in the back of the cart that was used to transport herself and her fellow gladiators around the country. She also noticed that she had her travelling cloak around her shoulders and that someone’s hand disappeared under her cloak and was at the moment stroking her breast and teasing her nipple. Twisting her head and body a little she managed to turn far enough around to see who was holding her.

“Caius?” She asked a little groggily, “You do know, like I can totally snap that hand clean off don’t you?” She felt Caius start to withdraw his hand, “Hey,” she smiled languidly and snuggled up to the young man, “I didn’t say for you to move it, I just asked if you knew. Leave it where it is, it’s kinda nice.”

Closing her eyes again, Buffy settled down to get comfortable again in Caius’ embrace. A moment later her eyes flew open once more.

“Second thoughts,” Buffy struggled to sit upright again, “perhaps you better move it!”

“Hey, fellows,” Caius called to the other gladiators sitting in the back of the cart with him, “Trix is awake!”

“Bout time,” Ramon a dark eyed Spaniard called, “you’ve been squeezing her tits all the way from Alsium! I thought she’d never notice, or you were doin’ it wrong.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” Asked another gladiator named Draba, a low chuckle escaped his lips, “Squeeze a girl’s tits to make her wake up.”

“Works for me,” admitted Caius.

“You do know I’m sitting right here don’t you?” Buffy warned.

“Wouldn’t be very much fun if you were some place else,” Draba pointed out to the amusement of the other gladiators.

“You wait until I get you guys out on the training yard,” Buffy warned, “then we’ll see who gets their tits squeezed!

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

8.

**The Games, Alsium.**

“Will she live?” Lentulus’ joy at seeing Buffy’s victory the previous day and the subsequent collecting of his winnings; was tempered by the fact that his latest champion fighter had not woken up since she’d collapsed in the arena.

Pulling back the light blanket that covered Buffy, he studied the bruises that appeared to cover almost every inch of her body. He prayed there was nothing permanently wrong with her. Already he’d had a couple of interesting offers from other owners to breed their best gladiators with her and buy any male children she might produce. He’d also had a few offers to buy her outright, but Lentulus had refused them all. He had his own plans for Buffy all of which involved him keeping tight control of where, when and who she fought. Already she’d earnt him more money than he’d seen for a long time, which was now under guard in his strong boxes back at his rooms. If he planned things correctly and didn’t get too greedy, Buffitrix would win him fame, fortune and respect plus a large villa with plenty of willing slave girls to retire on. However none of this would happen if she didn’t wake up.

“Well,” Lentulus repeated, “will she live?”

“That is in the hands of the gods,” Sempronius told him slowly, “it is in my mind that she sleeps to let her body heal.”

“You think?” Lentulus cast a worried glance at his Primus Exercitor.

“I’ve seen it before,” Sempronius confirmed, “she’ll wake when she’s good and ready…or not at all.”

“Look,” Lentulus was starting to worry that his road to fame and riches was going to be snatched cruelly away before it was fully in his grasp, “why isn’t she in the hospital if she’s that sick?”

“Dominus,” Sempronius turned a withering eye on his master, “the medicus here is a drunken butcher, he’s more likely to fuck Buffitrix than cure her.”

“He is?” Lentulus was taken aback by the bitterness in Sempronius’ reply.

“Yes,” the old warrior nodded his head slowly, “in future we’d do better to bring Eos with us, she at least knows how to bide a man’s wounds properly.”

“She does?” Lentulus scratched the back of his head as he thought the idea over, “I’ll give it some thought,” he promised, “but in the mean time, who’s been watching over her?”

“Caius, Dominus,” Sempronius gestured to the young gladiator standing a few feet away.

“Well?” Lentulus asked the fighter, “How is she?”

“She calls for her mother,” Caius shrugged, “as you might expect, Dominus. Sometimes she seems to be talking to people who aren’t here, but I think when she awakes she’ll be sane and well enough.”

“I hope so,” Lentulus eyes fell on Buffy’s bent and twisted helmet; it’d need replacing…more expense! “Did anyone check to see if her skull was cracked?”

“First thing I did, Dominus,” Sempronius said, “her skull is whole though her brains may still be addled.”

“You are such a cheerful soul, Sempronius,” Lentulus fixed the man with a hard stare, “has anyone told you that?”

“Many times, Dominus,” Sempronius replied sadly without even a trace of sarcasm.

“Well,” Lentulus turned to leave the waiting area under the arena, “let me know as soon as she awakes.”

0=0=0=0

**‘Magicus Rana’, the Aventine, Rome.**

Standing in the doorway to the back room of the magic shop, Aeneas watched his step-mother sit on the floor casting a jumble of small bones across the floor. After each cast of the bones, she’d carefully collect them up muttering to herself darkly as she did so. Occasionally she’d say something in a language he didn’t recognise or consult some ancient Greek text. Whatever she did or said, after each casting she looked more and more worried and that in turn worried him because he loved his step-mother as if she was his real mother.

Although he would always remember and love his real mother, the Great Queen Cleopatra, it’d been the wise woman sitting on the floor in front of him who’d looked after him since he’d arrived in Rome. She’d been the one who’d listened to him recite his lessons; she’d been the one who’d tended him when he was sick or comforted him when he was upset or frightened. His step-mother was also so much more fun than his real mother had ever been; she’d told him amazing stories of the fantastic land she’d come from and shown him magic tricks that were real magic and not just slight of hand. Although he’d always honour the memory of his real mother, Shani the Wise Woman, wife of his father, Titus Pullo, was and always would be his _real_ mother so when he saw her like this, with the roots of her red hair turning black it frightened him.

“Mother,” he called nervously, “what’s wrong?”

“Agh!” Willow looked up at the boy, she smiled reassuringly as she placed her hand on her chest, “Oh you frightened me, I didn’t notice you there.”

“What’s wrong?” Aeneas repeated taking a step towards Willow.

“Nothing for you to totally worry about, honey,” Willow climbed to her feet, “how’d you like to come with me and visit you Auntie Fidelia?”

Willow smiled at the boy’s eager nod, he was twelve and starting to take an interest in girls and one of the girls he was starting to take an interest in was Faith’s eldest daughter, Fidelia the Younger.

“Right then,” Willow grinned at the boy’s obvious eagerness, “get your cloak while I find that silly girl Drusilla.”

Watching as Aeneas ran from the shop, Willow reflected that a simple visit to her friend and fellow castaway in time took a lot of planning. Titus and Lucius her two sons were over in the tavern where Vorena the Younger would be keeping an eye on them for her. He daughter Zofiya would have to come with her because she was still breast feeding and Willow didn’t approve of wet nurses. Finally Drusilla would have to be left in charge of the shop where hopefully the silly girl wouldn’t sell something that would poison her customers. Sighing, Willow shook her head, Drusilla was a sweet girl, unlike her up-time vampiric namesake, but like the vampire Drusilla she was just a little ‘strange’. Perhaps, Willow thought, as she listened to Aeneas’ sandals pounding on the floorboards, it was time to buy a slave girl who was of more use than for just sweeping up and doing all the hard tedious work which Willow couldn’t be bothered with.

“Ready!” Aeneas appeared in the doorway slightly out of breath.

“Have you got your knife?” Willow asked as she picked up Zofiya and placed her in a sling across her shoulder.

“Of course, mother,” Aeneas rolled his eyes at his parent before showing her his knife which was really more like a small sword in his young hand.

“Good, then we’re ready to go!” Heading for the street, Willow once again cautioned Drusilla about selling things to people that she shouldn’t and stepped out into the street.

0=0=0=0

After a mere ten minute walk, Rome really wasn’t that big, Willow found herself outside the gate to Faith’s town villa. As usual, she felt just a twinge of jealousy. Okay, Titus and herself weren’t poor by any means. They were in fact comfortably off and were people to be respected in their own little world of the Aventine. But, Faith was rich, like mega rich. The villa Willow was now standing outside of was Faith’s Rome villa; she had another much larger, grander one in Pompeii and a third in the mountains to the north of the city for when it got too hot in Rome.

Who’d have thought that the slutty girl from Boston could have made such a success in ancient Rome? Of course it hadn’t hurt with her marrying well; Marius Arsenius had made his first fortune in slaves. When he’d married Faith, who was by then a famous gladiatrix and venetrix, she’d made him cut back on his slave trading. He now made more money than he could comfortably spend importing luxuries from the East. Faith’s anti-slavery principles hadn’t stopped her opening armouries that supplied Rome’s armies with armour and weapons. However her slaves were well looked after, paid and likely to be freed after five or ten years service in her workshops.

Lifting her hand, Willow knocked on the door, after what felt like an interminable wait the gate was finally opened by Faith’s butler.

“Can I help you?” The man looked down his long nose at Willow as if she was some common street beggar.

“Shani of Alexandria, wife of Titus Pullo to see your Mistress the Lady Fidelia,” Willow replied formally, she had to go though this rigmarole every time she came to visit.

“Is the Lady Fidelia expecting you?” Sniffed the butler.

“No,” Willow held on to her temper, ‘bloody haughty slaves’, she thought, “but I’m sure she won’t whip you too badly if I tell her I called and you wouldn’t let me in!”

By her side, Aeneas stifled a laugh while his step-mother restrained herself from giving Faith’s butler a magical hot-foot.

“If you’d like to wait inside,” the butler stepped aside to let Willow in, “I’ll see if my mistress can see you.”

Walking into the cool of the house, Willow looked around and tried to suppress her envious sighs. Her friend had all sorts of nice things, silks and vases and couches and the drains didn’t smell like they did up on the Aventine…

“YO! RED!” Faith rushed across the mosaic covered floor to give her friend a big slayer strength hug, “How ya doin’?”

“Fine,” Willow gasped as she fought for air.

“Hey!” Faith let go of Willow and turned to greet Aeneas, “How’s my little soldier?” She gathered the lad to her matronly bosom and hugged him.

“Pleased to see you again Aunt,” Aeneas mumbled formally from deep inside Faith’s cleavage.

“Hey, kid,” Faith let the boy go and glanced at Willow, “I can tell by the look on ya mom’s face that she doesn’t approve and wants to talk business.”

Nodding her head Willow agreed on both counts.

“Why don’t ya run off an’ find my brood,” Faith suggested, “I think Fidie has something she wants to show ya.”

Aeneas looked hopefully at Willow who nodded her permission and watched as her step-son shot off in search of Faith’s eldest daughter.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Willow said as the two women walked over to the atrium, “I’m trying to teach him some respect for women and it doesn’t help when you bury the boys head between your boobs like that.”

“Spoil-sport,” Faith teased as she gestured towards a couch for Willow to lie down on, “frightened he’ll get the hots for slutty Aunt Fidelia?”

“No, not really,” Willow admitted, “I know you’d never let it go any further but…”

“Okay, okay,” Faith held up her hands in defeat, “I’ll cool it with the kid; anyway you know he only comes over so he can be with Fidie.”

Just as she was about to open her mouth, Willow snapped it shut again. Perhaps she was getting a bit prudish in her old age after all, boys will be boys. All things considered she’d rather Aeneas be a ‘boy’ with Faith’s daughter than one of the tavern whores. Goddess! Came her next thought, how she’d changed over the years in her old life she’d never have thought like that.

“Ya want one of my girls to look after Zofiya for ya?” Faith asked as she signalled for one of her attendants to come and take the child from Willow.

“Please,” Willow took the sling from around her shoulders and held the baby on her lap while Faith cooed over the child for a moment before she was taken into the care of Sabia, Faith’s nurse maid.

“So,” Faith sipped wine from a goblet, “much as I enjoy your visits I can tell by ya black roots that this isn’t entirely a social call, what’s up?”

“I had a visit from that woman, Claudia Marcus,” Willow began but was interrupted by Faith’s angry comment.

“Wished I’d know she was back in town, I’d’ve had the bitch killed,” showing great restrain Faith placed her goblet gently on the table next to her couch, “what did she want?”

“Came to ask me about apocalypses,” Willow explained quietly, “particularly if there’s any on the way.”

“Are there?” Faith shifted on her couch as if she was about to spring to her feet and go grab her weapons.

“Not that I can see,” Willow shrugged as she took a sip from her own goblet of watered wine.

“Then why?” Faith lay back down on her couch, she trusted Willow implicitly about things like approaching apocalypses. “Gotta say there’s been no real increase in vamps or beasties on the streets.”

Rome was unusually free of vampires and demons; what few there was were thinned out by Faith when she wasn’t pregnant and people like Claudia Marius when she was. The major difference was that Faith did it out of a sense of duty, it was her calling. The Invigilators, of which Claudia Marius was one, did it for profit and the influence it gained their organisation.

“So, why is the killer bitch worried about the end of the world?” Faith wanted to know.

“Looks like there might be a new slayer in town,” Willow said softly, “there’s been reports of a gladiatrix who exhibits unusual strength and speed, you get the picture?”

“Crap,” Faith sighed and shook her head slowly, “you sure?”

“The bones seem to confirm it,” Willow pointed out, “If she is a slayer we need to find her before the Invigilators get their claws into her.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed quietly.

When Faith had first turned up in the world of the past she’d spent a couple of years as a gladiatrix, she’d thought she’d be tough enough for the job; she thought that killing people on an almost daily basis wouldn’t change her. She’d been wrong and she’d got out of the gladiatrix business as soon as she could. Of course in her day it was all about executing criminals and staging fixed fights. Nowadays it was all about the killing, she was glad she’d left when she had. Hunting and fighting beasts had been a much better and just as profitable a trade to go into.

“Any idea where she’s hold up?” Faith wanted to know.

“Not yet,” Willow admitted, “I’ve started scrying for her and I’ve got people out looking for her too.”

“I’ll have my people keep their eyes open too,” Part of Faith’s business included market stalls selling knives, tools, pots and pans to the general public; each stall was run by an ex-soldier. They made a remarkably efficient intelligence service. “I mean something like a slayer in the arena is bound to get people’s lips flappin’.”

“We’ve got to get to her before Crassus and his people do,” Willow warned.

“That creep in on the deal too?” Faith looked at Willow sharply, but then relaxed, as she answered her own question, “I suppose if that bitch Claudia is in on the job, Crassus will be sniffing around her tail too.”

“You know what Crassus will do if her gets his hands on the girl?” Willow shifted on her couch so she could see Faith more clearly.

“He’ll probably try to fuck her first,” Faith pointed out.

“Depends how old she is,” Willow shrugged, “any girl over fifteen is way too old for him.”

“Ya know, Red,” Faith said slowly, “once we find out what’s goin’ on here, what say we do something about these Invigilators, like permanently?”

“You mean kill them?” Willow didn’t sound as if she would be against the idea.

“Nah,” Faith glanced over at her friend, “I’m getting too old an’ fat to be climbing through windows an’ cuttin’ people’s throats in the middle of the night.”

”So, what then?” Willow wanted to know, “I suppose I could give them a real bad dose of the magical pox.”

“No need,” Faith grinned at the idea of Crassus with the magic pox, “Octavian still owes me a favour or two.”

“You think the First Citizen would totally do something like that just for you?” Willow didn’t sound convinced.

“Hey, look,” Faith had picked up on Willow doubt, “I was his first fuck, something like that’s bound to make an impression on a guy like him.”

“Yeah,” Willow nodded her head, “but you also screwed Brutus an’ look what happened to him!”

0=0=0=0

**A cart heading for the House of Batiatus.**

Lying back in Angel’s arms, Buffy felt his lips brush hers; she moaned softly as she felt his cool hand slide across her body to caress her breast. Suddenly the earth moved! Thinking that this should be happing at a much later point in the proceedings, Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and she started to take in her surroundings. First of all, she noticed that it was daylight, a clear blue sky spread itself out above her so it was fairly safe to bet that the strong arms around her and the muscular chest her head was resting against didn’t belong to Angel.

Moving her head slightly, Buffy saw that she was in fact half lying, half sitting in the back of the cart that was used to transport herself and her fellow gladiators around the country. She also noticed that she had her travelling cloak around her shoulders and that someone’s hand disappeared under her cloak and was at the moment stroking her breast and teasing her nipple. Twisting her head and body a little she managed to turn far enough around to see who was holding her.

“Caius?” She asked a little groggily, “You do know, like I can totally snap that hand clean off don’t you?” She felt Caius start to withdraw his hand, “Hey,” she smiled languidly and snuggled up to the young man, “I didn’t say for you to move it, I just asked if you knew. Leave it where it is, it’s kinda nice.”

Closing her eyes again, Buffy settled down to get comfortable again in Caius’ embrace. A moment later her eyes flew open once more.

“Second thoughts,” Buffy struggled to sit upright again, “perhaps you better move it!”

“Hey, fellows,” Caius called to the other gladiators sitting in the back of the cart with him, “Trix is awake!”

“Bout time,” Ramon a dark eyed Spaniard called, “you’ve been squeezing her tits all the way from Alsium! I thought she’d never notice, or you were doin’ it wrong.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” Asked another gladiator named Draba, a low chuckle escaped his lips, “Squeeze a girl’s tits to make her wake up.”

“Works for me,” admitted Caius.

“You do know I’m sitting right here don’t you?” Buffy warned.

“Wouldn’t be very much fun if you were some place else,” Draba pointed out to the amusement of the other gladiators.

“You wait until I get you guys out on the training yard,” Buffy warned, “then we’ll see who gets their tits squeezed!

0=0=0=0


	9. Chapter 9

9.

**House of Batiatus.**

The cart containing Buffy and her comrades rumbled through the gate and into the training yard. It was late afternoon and the gladiators who’d not gone to the games in Alsium looked towards the cart eager to see who had returned. The two men from the school who’d been killed at the games were both inexperienced new men who’d made no real friends; their dying would not cause the remaining gladiators to mourn for very long.

Once the gate was securely closed behind them a guard climbed into the back of the cart to free its passengers from the chains that prevented them from jumping out of the cart and escaping. Most of the time, Buffy could forget that she was in fact someone else’s property, it was only little things like having her ankle chained to the bar in the back of the cart that brought it home to her. After rubbing her ankle where the chain had chafed her skin, she pushed herself to her feet and shuffled down the cart to jump onto the sand of the training area.

The act of landing elicited a soft groan from her throat as all her aches and pains, having been lulled to sleep by the journey, woke up again and made themselves felt. Stretching she looked around to see if she could see Eos, the girl was nowhere in sight, probably working in the house, Buffy told herself. Looking forward to seeing the young girl again and feeling her strong fingers working all the kinks and knots out of her muscles, Buffy followed Caius and the others into the kitchen.

Taking a big bowl of vegetable stew, a loaf of bread and a mug of fresh water, Buffy took her meal to her accustomed place at the far end of the eating area. Sitting down she picked up her spoon and started to devour her meal. The food at the Alsium arena hadn’t been very good or plentiful and after three days, two hard fights and having the crap knocked out of her, Buffy was starving. So intent was she on stuffing food into her mouth that she didn’t notice Caius approach until he’d actually sat down across the table from her.

“Hungry?” he asked as he broke his own loaf in two and started to eat.

“Starving,” Buffy mumbled between mouthfuls; her slayer metabolism would keep her going for quite some time on short rations, but when she had the chance she liked to stock up on calories.

“About in the cart,” Caius began, “I didn’t mean to take advantage…”

“Yes you did,” Buffy replied sharply, “you saw the unconscious girl and thought, ‘I wonder what her boobs feel like’.”

“I…” Caius opened his mouth to let the denial out, watching Buffy rip through her loaf of bread with her strong white teeth he thought better of it, “Alright,” he admitted shaking his head, “I admit it, I took advantage of a comrade and I’m sorry for doing it.”

“I also remember,” Buffy wiped out her bowl with a heel of bread as she glanced up to look into Caius’ face, “that you could have done a lot more when I was unconscious and you didn’t…” Buffy frowned for a moment, “...at least I don’t think you did.”

“I didn’t,” Caius told her earnestly; for some reason Buffy found she believed him.

“And I remember you looked after me,” Buffy reached across the table and touched Caius’ hand where it lay next to his bowl, “and…” Buffy gave him a small smile, “...maybe it was nice to have a guy touch me who wasn’t trying to kill me or at the very least beat the crap outta me.”

“Oh, does that mean…” Caius didn’t get a chance to finish.

“That doesn’t give you permission to try it again,” Buffy warned, “I mean touching up the unconscious girl, totally gross.” Having finished eating she started to climb to her feet, “Next time you touch my boobs have the decency to do it while I’m awake…” Buffy realised that what she’d just said wasn’t exactly what she’d meant, “…not that I’m saying there’s totally gonna be a next time!”

Deciding ‘now’ would be a good time to leave, Buffy picked up her bowl, spoon and mug put it on the table for the kitchen women to wash and hurriedly headed in the direction of her cell before she put her foot even further into her mouth.

0=0=0=0

Walking through the gladiator’s quarters, Buffy waited for a guard to unlock the gate to the cells. He walked with her and unlocked the gate that separated the gladiator’s cells from her own. Stepping through the gate she stood and listened to the guard close and lock the gate behind her. The sound of the metal bolt sliding into place made her blood run cold, like being chained into the back of the cart, being locked in made it all come home to her once again that she was someone’s property to be used in whatever way her master wanted.

Walking slowly into her cell she sat down on her bed, the fighting she could deal with. So, she fought human’s (or at least things that looked vaguely human) that wasn’t so bad, the criminals needed to die (at least that’s what she told herself in the wee dark hours just before dawn) and the gladiators she faced were professional fighters…who had no more choice in who they fought than she did. On the positive side she had ‘wicked-mad’ fighting skills now. Better than she’d ever been, better than Giles could ever have taught her.

For a moment she sat and thought about her friends and family. Had there been a funeral, had there been a body? She was here now, had she left anything of herself behind for her mother to bury and cry over or was there just an empty grave with a tomb stone saying; _Buffy Anne Summers, 1981-1997, RIP_ , or something. Was there a new slayer, who was she, was Giles her watcher? Would Xander and Willow still be helping out…what about Angel? But most importantly, and this was the only thing that made the tears come to her eyes, what about her mom? Would Giles tell her everything now she was dead and not a threat to her mother’s safety, how would her mother cope having lost her only child. Sniffing back the tears, Buffy knew deep down that she’d never know the answers to these questions, it was pointless asking them even; she was in the here and now and this was where she had to survive and make a life for herself. To do this, the first thing she had to do was to win her freedom.

Hearing the gate from the women’s quarters open and close, Buffy quickly wiped away her tears with the hem of her travelling cloak that she still had wrapped around her shoulders. Hoping that her eyes weren’t all puffy and red, she turned towards the door eager to greet Eos. The cell door opened slowly as the little Greek girl made her way into her cell.

“Hi, Trix!” Eos called; Buffy’s ears pricked up, there was something wrong with the girl’s voice, it sounded slurred.

“Eos?” Buffy stood up as the girl came further into the room, she gasped as the light from her little window fell on the Eos’ face. “EOS!” Buffy cried as she rushed to the girl and wrapped her arms around her shoulders protectively, “What in Hades happened to you?”

“Oh!” Eos wriggled in Buffy’s arms trying to free herself from the gladiatrix’s grasp, “Don’t fuss so, it was my own fault.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked angrily as she held the girl at arms length by her shoulders, “What was your own fault? What did you do?” Buffy demanded angrily, “Repeatedly walk into someone’s fist?”

“Ow!” Eos screwed up her face in pain, “Please let go, Trix you’re hurting me!”

“I’m…!” Buffy let go of the girl as if she’d suddenly become red hot.

Stepping away from Eos, Buffy let her eyes wander over the girl as they catalogued her injuries. Her left eye was almost swollen shut as a big livid bruise covered most of the left side of her face. There was a nasty cut on her bottom lip which had swelled up and accounted for her slurred speech; on the right side of her face there were several smaller contusions. There were bruises and what looked like finger marks on her arms and shoulders, Buffy also suspected there were a lot more injures on her body covered by her dress.

“What happen?” Buffy asked more gently as she guided the girl across the cell and helped her sit down on her bed.

“I giggled at just the wrong moment,” Eos admitted, “I told you I brought this on myself I shoulda bitten my tongue and laughed about it later.”

“Okay,” Buffy wanted to get things straight in her head before she went off and killed whoever was responsible for hurting her friend, “you’re trying to tell me that someone worked you over like this just for laughing?”

“Uh-huh,” Eos nodded her head and winced as one of her many injuries made itself felt.

“Right,” Buffy sat done next to Eos and in her best ‘big sister’ voice demanded to know what had happened, “start at the beginning, okay?”

“Alright,” Eos sighed and slowly leaned her back against the wall of Buffy’s cell, “Yesterday was a rest day, right?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Buffy nodded.

“So in the afternoon,” Eos continued, “us women and girls drew loots to see which gladiator we’d get…”

“Sorry,” Buffy shook her head slightly, “I don’t understand, what do you mean, which gladiator you’d get?”

“To have sex with,” Eos explained as if Buffy was a little simple.

“WHAT!?” Buffy had to restrain herself from grabbing hold of Eos and hurting her again before going outside and killing every male in the school.

“What?” Eos frowned at Buffy’s reaction.

“You have to have sex with the gladiators?” Buffy gasped horrified, “But you’re only fourteen!”

“So?” Eos was completely puzzled by Buffy’s reaction now, however she put it all down to her strange barbarian ways, “Look,” Eos thought she ought to try and explain civilised customs to the poor barbarian woman, “if my father hadn’t sold me I’d have been married by the time I was thirteen, it’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” Buffy growled deep in her throat.

“Do you want me to tell you this story or not?” Eos shifted slightly, winced again and then sighed with relief as she found a more comfortable spot.

“Go on,” Buffy told her, steeling herself for more horrors.

“So, anyway I drew, Ariovistix,” Eos explained, “you know the big Gaul who was bought the same time as you?” 

Buffy nodded her head, she did indeed remember the Gaul, she’d not spoken to him much, she didn’t speak ‘Gaul’ or whatever the guy spoke and his Latin and Greek was almost none existent.

“I went to his cell,” Eos continued with her tale, “and he seemed nice enough. Then when we were just getting down to business I caught a glimpse of his manhood as he got on top of me and I giggled…that’s when he started hitting me…”

“Just why did you giggle when you saw his,” Buffy paused and chose her words carefully, in the end she went with Eos’ word, “erm ‘manhood’?”

“It was, you know…” Eos held up her hand, made a fist and wiggled her little finger about.

“Small?” Buffy guessed.

“Tiny,” Eos confirmed, “and him being such a big strong man as well…but I shouldn’t have giggled like that…”

“Doesn’t give him the right to beat you half to death,” Buffy pointed out, “what happened next, I hope someone came and pulled him off of you.”

“Yeah,” Eos nodded her head carefully, “Hector heard me screaming and pulled him off of me.”

“And totally beat the crap outta him I hope,” Buffy wanted to know.

“Oh, he slapped him around a bit,” Eos said quietly, “Put him on half rations for two training periods and told him he couldn’t have another woman for the next four rest days.”

“Is that all?” Buffy demanded indignantly; the underage sex thing aside, what the Gaul had done demanded real retribution not a slap on the wrist.

“What do you mean, is that all?” Eos asked once again confused by Buffy’s reaction, “It’s bad enough that he’s got a small cock without being punished for it.”

“But he shouldn’t have beat you up like that,” Buffy tried to explain.

“But I laughed at him,” Eos replied, “I shouldn’t have; a thing like that could put you off sex for life.”

“But…!” Buffy started to try and explain, but gave up; she could see that she wasn’t going to be able to explain things to Eos feeling like she did now.

However, Buffy promised herself two things, first, Ariovistix had hurt Eos, so she was going to hurt him. Secondly she was even more determined to get Eos and herself out of this hell hole.

0=0=0=0

**‘Magicus Rana’, the Aventine, Rome.**

“Ow!” Willow squeaked as Zofiya’s new milk teeth nipped her nipple, “Greedy little beast,” Willow admonished her daughter as she sucked contentedly at her mother’s breast.

So far the morning had been quiet with only a couple of customers, a local woman wanting a curse and a rich man (possibly a Senator) wanting some poison. Willow had taken both customer’s money knowing that the curse wouldn’t work and the poison the ‘Senator’ had wanted would take larger quantities to be effective that the amount he had bought. At the moment she was alone in the shop, except for little Zofiya of course. Drusilla had taken Titus shopping and Aeneas was out somewhere with his father.

Glancing up at the sound of the shop bell dinging, Willow saw a rich Lady sidle guiltily into the shop. For just a moment she thought it might be Claudia Marius again, not that she was worried, if necessary she could deal with the assassin herself and there were always enough men of the collegium around to get rid of the body afterwards. The woman pulled back the hood of her cloak and Willow saw the cheerful, open face of Jocasta wife of Posca standing before her.

“Hello, Shani!” the young woman smiled in her usual breathless way, she rushed across the shop but stopped herself from hugging Willow when she saw the baby at her breast. “Oh my!” Jocasta gasped, “Is that little Zofiya? How she’s grown!”

“Not so little anymore,” Willow agreed as she gently detached her daughter from her nipple, “and not so light either!” she rearranged her dress to cover her breast, “So what can I do for you today,” Willow asked, “more of the usual?”

“Yes please!” Jocasta smiled at her happily.

The young woman had been coming to Willow’s magic shop since she’d been directed to it by Lucius Vorenus, Willow’s first ‘husband’. Posca, Jocasta’s husband was a good twenty or more years older than his young and energetic wife and was finding it difficult to ‘keep up’ with her. Oddly, despite their different backgrounds and their age difference, the couple were devoted to each other and it was Jocasta who’d come looking for something to put some ‘iron’ in her husband’s ‘stylus’. The young woman had been a regular visitor to Willow’s magic shop ever since.

“Why don’t you sit on the stool there,” Willow pointed to stool by the counter, “and tell me all your news while I get your things.”

With a word of thanks and a slight intensification of her almost permanent smile, Jocasta sat down and accepted a cup of water from Willow’s hand.

“You know,” the smile slipped from Jocasta’s face a little as she sipped her water, “seeing you there with Zofiya makes me wish I had a baby.”

“No luck yet?” Willow called from the back of the shop where she mixed the ‘Love Powder’ for Jocasta.

“No,” there was definite sadness in the young woman’s voice, “I’m beginning to think it’ll never happen.”

“I’ve got some herbs and a charm that might help,” Willow called.

“You have?” Jocasta called back eagerly.

“Shall I add them to your order?” Willow reached for a little bronze charm and hesitated before saying the spell over it.

”Please!” 

Saying the spell, Willow tuned out most of what Jocasta was saying. To be honest she might be a pleasant young woman but her life was a bore. Or at least Willow thought so until she mentioned something about a gladiator school.

“…and there was this great brute of a gladiator trying to kill this tiny gladiatrix…”

Willow almost dropped the charm and the packets of powder she was holding at the mention of the word ‘gladiatrix’.

“…and he had a sword and shield and she was unarmed,” Jocasta went on to give Willow a blow by blow account of the fight. “Then when he thought he’d won she kicked him in…well, you know,” Jocasta blushed prettily and whispered, “in the family jewels and had him crying Uncle in seconds,” a puzzled frown came to Jocasta’s face for a second. “I suppose seeing as she was a girl that should be crying Auntie, anyway,” Jocasta continued the grin returning to her face, “I wanted to buy her straight away, Octavia would have been sooo jealous, but darling Posca bought me the most divine dress and a really expensive necklace instead.”

“Umm,” Willow began by trying not to seem too interested, “do you happen to remember where this was?”

“Oh outside of Rome, Shani, miles away, you wouldn’t want to go all that way out there. I mean Posca and myself were only out there on Octavian’s business.” Jocasta picked up the little charm from the counter where Willow had placed it and studied it turning it over in her hands.

“Jocasta, sweetie,” Willow called making the girl look into her eyes; Willow didn’t like to do this but it was easier than trying to question the young woman, she made a gesture with her hand and Jocasta’s face went blank in a second.

“Who owns this gladiatrix?” Willow asked.

“Lentulus Batiatus,” Jocasta replied in a monotone voice as she stared unseeingly at Willow.

“Oh, I’ve heard of him,” muttered Willow before she asked, “were there any other gladiatrix at Batiatus’ school?”

“Not that I saw,” Jocasta replied.

“Okay,” Willow smiled at the hypnotized woman, “that’s all for now,” Willow congratulated herself on saving a good half hour not having to get even those two minor facts from Jocasta’s jumbled mind, “When I snap my fingers it’ll be like nothing odd has happened and we’ve just been sitting here chatting,” Willow snapped her fingers and Jocasta blinked her eyes back into focus.

“…as I was saying,” Willow spoke as if nothing had happened, “when you want to conceive put the powder into a cup of water and drink it about an hour before you make love.” Willow watched Jocasta nod her head as she listened to her instructions completely unaware that she’d been put under a spell. “Next tie the charm around your waist so it rests on your belly as your husband…well,” Willow smiled, “I sure you get the picture.”

“Oh, I do!” Jocasta agreed.

The two women chatted for a few more minutes before Jocasta said she had to go. Leaving several silver coins on the counter, she put her hood back up and left Willow and Zofiya alone.

“Well,” Willow looked down at her daughter as she sat in her basket behind the counter, “I bet that gladiatrix is really our little slayer,” she mused, “I mean what’s the chances of there being two superstrong gladiatrix in the same part of the country?”

Zofiya, gurgled at her mother, waved her arms about a little and then lay down and fell asleep. Looking under the counter Willow got out a wax tablet and scribbled a short message in English. Going to the door, she called over one of the collegium men and handed him the tablet.

“Take this to the Lady Fidelia’s villa,” she told him, “don’t give it to anyone else. That butler of hers will try and take it off you but you must put this directly into her hand, understand?”

“Of course, Domina,” the man, Ovidious, was an ex-legionary and could be relied on to carry out orders to the letter.

“Good man,” Willow slipped Ovidious a small coin, “don’t drink it until you’ve got back with any answer, okay?”

The man nodded his understanding before heading off through the crowd towards Faith’s home.

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

10.

**The House of Batiatus.**

Walking out onto the sand of the training yard the following morning, Buffy caused something of a stir amongst the gladiators. Today she wore only the short skirt that she’d worn in the arena, as thousands of people had now seen her breasts she didn’t see the point of wearing her tunic for training anymore and anyway it was cooler to dress like this.

Having mostly slept off the aches and pains of the previous day she was now only afflicted with a stiffness that would soon be cured by some vigorous physical exercise. After doing some warm up exercises she walked over to the baskets that held the practice weapons and picked out a wooden sword. Next she went to stand before one of the battered practice posts placed around the yard. Here she went through her sword forms, gradually building up her speed and the force of her blows.

Taking a break a little later she walked slowly over to the water butt and drank a cup of the cooling water. As she did so her eyes sort out Ariovistix, she’d been doing this all morning. It must have seemed to the big Gaul that every time he paused during his own practice sessions the blonde gladiatrix’s eyes would be on him, watching him, waiting for her chance to exact her revenge for what he’d done to her young friend.

Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to challenge him until after the midday meal; mornings were for individual practice and coaching, afternoons were for practice fights, Buffy satisfied her need for pay back by just trying to unnerve the man. Going back to the post she started working on her forms again. Once more she slowly increased the speed and power of her blows. Striking the post faster and faster she never noticed how everyone else in the yard had stopped to watch her. Sweat rolled down her body as the sound of each new sword strike followed swiftly on from the last until they sounded like a woodpecker drilling into a tree trunk. With a cry of pent up anger, Buffy hit the post so hard that her sword broke and she was left standing, panting with just the hilt in her hand.

“Buffitrix.”

Looking up from the remains of the broken sword, Buffy saw one of the guards in his white tunic as he stood clutching his baton nervously in his hand.

“Don’t worry,” Buffy smiled resignedly at the man, “I won’t attack you…after all I’m just a girl.”

“Dominus Batiatus summons you,” the guard stood to one side and gestured to the iron gate that blocked the stairs leading up to Lentulus’ quarters.

“Then we better go see him,” walking over to the gate, Buffy retied her hair from where it had fallen across her face as the guard fell in behind her.

After being led through the gate and up stairs, she was, as usual, left alone in Lentulus’ office waiting for the man himself. No one ever seemed concerned that she would use the opportunity to escape. It was true that without Eos she wouldn’t risk it, but it also told her that Lentulus was fairly certain that she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. Suspecting there were hidden gates and guards, Buffy waited patiently for her master to arrive. He didn’t keep her waiting long; she heard his voice long before she saw him as he walked through his house giving orders to his slaves. Eventually he appeared at the opposite end the room attended by the woman, Varinia and the Greek scribe Antoninus.

“Buffitrix! Buffitrix!” Lentulus walked briskly across the room and held her by the shoulders, for a moment Buffy thought he was going to kiss her.

He didn’t, she wouldn’t have stopped him if he had. He was her owner, her Dominus, she was his to do with as he pleased…for now.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Lentulus sat down with a sigh on a couch, “you know I’m very pleased with your performance.”

“Thank-you, Dominus,” Buffy replied casting her eyes down to watch the floor, good slaves didn’t look their owner in the eye.

“Yes,” Lentulus accepted a goblet of wine from Varinia and drank deeply, “I’ve already made back what I paid for you a hundred fold or more, and it shouldn’t be forgotten that you’ve earnt yourself,” Lentulus paused and looked at his scribe, “how much Antoninus?”

“Five-thousand-two-hundred-and-thirty, Dominus,” Antoninus replied without hesitation.

“A respectable start to what will no doubt grow to a sizeable fortune,” Lentulus handed back his goblet to Varinia. “I’ve also had several tempting offers from men of note who want to buy you outright. While others simply wish to breed their finest gladiators with you and buy any male children you might bear.”

Despite herself, Buffy looked up and stared at Lentulus, she didn’t want to be sold or forced to have babies.

“Don’t worry,” Lentulus noted the look on her face and reassured her, “I turned them all down, I have plans for you young Buffitrix and none of them involves selling you or turning you into some sort of brood mare to produce little gladiators.”

”Thank-you, Dominus,” Buffy replied with a relieved sigh.

“Unfortunately,” Lentulus settled back on his couch, “with the world the way it is no owner will match his best gladiators against you.”

“Frightened I’ll kill them, Dominus?” Buffy asked.

“Possibly,” Lentulus admitted, “but mostly its because you’re a woman,” Lentulus gestured vaguely with his hands, “of course there are some philosophical arguments about what would happen if a woman proved to be a man’s equal or superior in battle and its effects on society, but I won’t go into those…”

For which Buffy would be eternally grateful.

“…on a practical level,” Lentulus continued without pause, “it means you will never make the really big money that fighting the very best gladiators would have earnt you. Which is a shame,” Lentulus sighed sadly, “because you and I know that you’d be able to defeat any that dared face you.”

“No, my dear Buffitrix,” Lentulus continued sadly, “you will have to be content with the novelty bouts like the ones you’ve already fought,” A crafty smile came to Lentulus’ face as his eyes roved over Buffy’s young, athletic body, “However, handled correctly and I have the man here who knows how to handle these matters,” he gestured to Antoninus who bowed slightly in Buffy’s direction. “We can make a respectable fortune by betting on the outcome of your combats.”

“We can?” Buffy frowned, this was all sounding too good to be true.

“Indeed,” Lentulus nodded, “after all we have inside information and Antoninus is an expert at laying off bets so no one will know who is betting on what. I of course will have to be seen to bet on you to win, it would be thought strange if I didn’t but as long as I don’t over bet on your victory it shouldn’t affect the odds too much.”

“Do I have to?” Buffy asked, “I mean bet on myself.”

“No, you don’t _have_ to,” Lentulus smiled indulgently, “but you might as well. After all if you lose the bet the chances will be that you’ll be dead anyway so what’s the point in not betting on yourself?”

“Ah!” Buffy nodded her head, “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“What do you want, Buffitrix?” Lentulus asked suddenly as he looked at her intently, “What do you really, really want above all things?”

“Freedom,” Buffy replied without hesitation, “freedom for myself and Eos.”

“A first-rate goal,” Lentulus nodded wisely, “unfortunately you’re unlikely to win sufficient prize money to free yourself and young Eos. Of course I could be wrong, you may get lucky and some grateful punter might give you a handsome gift but you can’t, as it were, _bet_ on that happening.”

“Oh,” Buffy frowned, “so you’re telling me I’m totally not going to be able to buy my freedom?”

“Well,” Lentulus spread his hands in a helpless gesture, “as your notoriety grows your value will go up, I doubt you’d ever make enough in prize money and of course the longer you stay in the arena the more chance you have of being killed. Even the best gladiators last only five,” Lentulus shrugged, “ten years at most.”

“I see,” Buffy pursed her lips, “and no doubt as I get more well know my bouts will get harder?”

“Until even you cannot possibly win,” Lentulus admitted, “but I have a plan, a way out for you with more than enough money in your purse to live out your life in comfort.”

“Go on then,” Buffy cocked her head to one side as she looked down at Lentulus and wondered if she should start making her escape plans now, “lets hear it.”

“A contract,” Lentulus sat up and looked eagerly into Buffy’s eyes, “a legal, binding contract between myself and you.”

“Okay I’m listening,” Buffy was indeed listening as she started to plot her and Eos’ escape.

“Fight for me, for say, five years,” Lentulus explained, “and at the end of that time I will free both yourself and Eos. You won’t have to pay one denarius, all your winnings will be intact for you to live on, I’ll even give you a bonus of say five percent of the money I win on you,” Lentulus watched Buffy expectantly, “what do you say?”

“Five years is too long,” Buffy replied immediately, “two years.”

“Four!” Lentulus countered.

“Split the difference?” Buffy asked.

“Three years?” Lentulus thought about this for a moment, “Agreed,” he nodded, “but only if your bonus is reduced to two-and-a-half percent.”

“Fair enough,” Buffy agreed putting her escape plans on hold for the time being; whatever happened she and Eos would need money.

“I’ll have Antoninus draw up a contract and we can sign it later,” Lentulus told her, “do you read Latin of Greek?”

“No,” Buffy shook her head.

“Well, Antoninus will read it to you,” Lentulus saw the objection on Buffy’s face before she could even voice it. “Don’t worry,” Lentulus sighed sadly, “Antoninus is honest to a fault he won’t let me cheat you. No doubt you can make your mark well enough to be legally binding.”

“I can sign my name in my own language,” Buffy pointed out.

“Your people can write?” Lentulus sounded surprised, “Well there’s a wonder…oh before you go.” Lentulus stood up slowly and walked over to stand beside Buffy, when he next spoke his voice was low so that only the two of them could hear.

“I heard about the unfortunate incident between Ariovistix and young Eos,” Lentulus placed his hand lightly on Buffy’s shoulder, “While I understand that Eos is your friend and you probably want to avenge her pain, I’m sure that you wouldn’t want her pain increased by say a whipping because you went too far?” Lentulus raised an eyebrow in Buffy’s direction.

“Eos,” Lentulus explained, “while being a valuable slave is not as valuable as Ariovistix. I wouldn’t want him killed or injured due to some silly mistake or misunderstanding by a certain gladiatrix.” Lentulus smiled conspiratorially at Buffy, “After the midday meal I suggest you challenge him, beat him and then forget about it. Sempronius and Hector won’t stop you unless you go too far and the other men will understand that it is a point of honour.”

“How far is too far?” Buffy wanted to know.

“Don’t kill him and don’t break any bones,” Lentulus explained, “in fact, don’t do anything that will take more than say a five-day for him to recover from.”

“You’re being remarkably understanding,” Buffy pointed out, “Dominus.”

“Things like this tend to fester if they’re not brought to a head quickly,” Lentulus explained, “now go and do what needs to be done,” Lentulus pinned her with a gimlet stare, “and remember you’re not so valuable that I won’t have both you and Eos whipped if you disobey me.”

0=0=0=0

Looking up from her meal of bread, olives and goat’s cheese, Buffy saw Caius, Ramon and Draba place their own food on the table and sit down with her. This was unusual, although she was more accepted by the gladiators than she used to be, unless Eos could join her no one sat with her and she ate her meals alone.

“Thought we’d join you,” observed Ramon as he broke his loaf in two.

“Show whose side we’re on,” Draba added.

“Eos is a popular girl,” Caius observed, “most of the men think what Ariovistix did was wrong.”

“And,” Buffy sighed, “you all wanted to look at my boobs.”

“I have to admit,” agreed Ramon with a wide smile, “that they did influence us a little.”

“Quite a lot actually,” Draba pointed out.

“And they are very nice boobs,” Caius told his friends.

“You should know,” Ramon smirked.

“Okay guys,” Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at the three comedians, “keep looking, I’m betting you’ll soon get bored and won’t notice them after awhile.”

“How little she knows about men,” Draba grinned, to which his friends heartily agreed.

“But we mean what we said about Eos,” Ramon pointed out quietly, “I’d understand it if Ariovistix had just slapped her once maybe twice, but to beat her like that was uncalled for.”

“Aye,” Draba agreed again not noticing the dark look on Buffy’s face.

“Erm, fellows,” Caius however had, “it seems men treat women differently where Buffitrix comes from, I think its wise if you kept your opinions on disciplining your women to yourselves.”

“Its totally okay guys,” Buffy held up her hands in a placatory gesture; it wasn’t all right but there was little she could do to change things just now, “when in Rome…or at least in a gladiator school near Rome, do as the Romans do and all that.” Shaking her head Buffy mopped up the last of the olive oil in her bowl with her bread, “I just want to say thanks for the support guys.”

“We’ll watch your back….” Caius began.

“Or your tits,” interrupted by Draba.

“I need my back watching?” Buffy looked around at her three new friends.

“Ariovistix has become very friendly with Marcellus these last few weeks,” Caius informed her.

“Some have even said,” Draba told her in hushed tones, “that Marcellus had Ariovistix beat on Eos just to get back at you for beating him that time.” 

“And others say,” Ramon added his denarius’ worth, “that it was strange how a fight broke out between Ariovistix and Gannicus when Marcellus was trying to kill you,” the Spaniard shrugged, “it may be coincidence but it did stop Sempronius and Hector from, breaking up your fight.”

“You think they’re in cahoots?” Buffy asked.

“Cur-whats?” The three men frowned in incomprehension as they stared at Buffy.

“Sorry, weird barbarian word,” Buffy explained, “you think they’re totally working together against me?”

“Don’t worry,” Caius assured her as he nodded his head slowly, “we’ll watch your back…”

“…and tits,” Ramon grinned. 

“…and Eos,” Draba added, “just in case, you know?”

“I think I do,” Buffy nodded her head, “and thanks again guys.”

0=0=0=0

After putting on her practice armour and picking up a sword and shield, Buffy walked across the yard to where Ariovistix was squaring off against a man called Laelius.

“Fight me!” Buffy slapped Ariovistix across the butt with the flat of her sword.

The big Gaul turned ready to confront her, but when he realised what was going to happen he hesitated.

“Come on,” Buffy taunted as she took a step closer to the man and really started to get in his face, “fight me or are you too much of a coward to actually face another little girl,” Buffy smiled nastily up at the Gaul. “I know what it is,” Buffy told the other gladiators, “Ariovistix only likes to fight little girls who can’t fight back!”

There were mutterings of agreement from around the yard; Ariovistix had made no friends by hurting Eos. Trying to blank her mind as to why, exactly, Eos was so popular with the gladiators, Buffy pushed Ariovistix with her shield to send him stumbling back a couple of paces. The Gaul’s eyes turned to where Marcellus stood as if asking for instructions.

“DON’T LOOK AT HIM!” Buffy yelled into his face, “Look at me and fight me you cowardly, no dick, bully!”

This last proved too much for Ariovistix, with a great roar of rage he launched himself at Buffy. His sword swept down to cleave her head in two only to pass through thin air. Having stepped agilely to one side, Buffy was nowhere near the blow when it landed; she stood to one side as the man blundered by and hit him on the elbow with her sword making him cry out in pain.

Dropping his sword from his numbed hand, Ariovistix tried to protect himself with his shield. Advancing on him Buffy’s sword struck wherever she wanted with all the speed of a striking snake. Wherever Ariovistix placed his shield, Buffy would strike him somewhere else. Being mindful of what Lentulus had told her, Buffy gauged her blows to inflict maximum pain but not to break bones. The fight, if it could be called that because Ariovistix never even managed to land a single blow, lasted only a few minutes. By the time Buffy had finished the Gaul grovelled in the sand crying out after each blow she landed and begging her to stop and saying he was sorry.

“Did Eos beg you to stop?” Buffy demanded as she stuck out yet again, “Did she say she was sorry?”

“ENOUGH!” Sempronius cried as he and Hector stepped between the two fighters, “I think you’ve made your point Buffitrix.”

The Primus Exercitor watched Buffy carefully shield on his arm and a real sword in his hand in case she didn’t stop. For just a minute, Buffy stood over the fallen Gaul staring down at him with hate filled eyes, Sempronius’ words seemed to be coming to her from a very long way away.

“Buffitrix,” Sempronius said slowly and with some menace, “he’s learnt his lesson, its time to stop now.”

Gradually the words worked there way into her mind, now was not the time, she told herself. If she really wanted to kill the man she’d have ample opportunity later, she was sure of that. Slowly Buffy relaxed and let her sword arm fall to her side. Placing her sword in her left hand behind her shield she stepped towards the Gaul and held out her hand to him.

“Here,” Buffy said calmly, “take my hand.”

Hesitantly and not without a certain amount of fear, Ariovistix took her hand and let her pull him to his feet.

“I hold no grudge against this man,” Buffy told the watching gladiators, “he’s paid for what he’s done, but…” Buffy let the silence stretch for a moment or two, “…if I hear of any man mistreating any of the women they’ll have to answer to me.”

“Aye,” called Caius, “and me.”

“And me,” Ramon stepped forward.

“What the Hades,” Draba shrugged, “Aye, and me!”

“Back to work,” cried Sempronius as he watched Buffy walk off the yard and sit down in the shade, he would need to talk to that girl before too long.

0=0=0=0


	11. Chapter 11

11.

**The House of Batiatus.**

Moaning with barely suppressed desire, Buffy felt Caius’ hands roam from her shoulders to rest on her buttocks. Her breasts were squeezed hard up against his bronzed, muscular chest; she lifted her face to his as she closed her eyes and opened her lips invitingly…

“Trix!”

“W-what?” Buffy’s eyes snapped open and she found herself in the steam room lying on a cloth covered marble slab.

“Nice dream was it?” Eos giggled as she wiped the oil from her hands having finished massaging the kinks out of Buffy’s spine. “Sorry to disturb you but I need you to lie on your back.”

“Yeah, okay,” Buffy rolled over and lay flat on her back as Eos started to press her thumbs into the soles of her feet, “Oh,” Buffy sighed, “that’s good.”

“So,” the girl asked as started to work on Buffy’s toes, “who were you dreaming about?”

“Caius,” Buffy replied dreamily, she felt so relaxed.

“Oh, he’s nice,” Eos nodded, she noticed that Buffy had pushed herself up on her elbows and was studying her closely, “What?”

“You’ve slept with him,” Buffy asked slowly, “haven’t you?”

“No,” Eos frowned all the time thinking what a funny thing to ask, “I’ve had sex with him a few times, but I’ve never slept with him.”

“Yeah alright,” Buffy rolled her eyes, Romans didn’t use the same euphemisms as she was used to, she hesitated before asking her next question, “what was it like?”

“Well,” Eos had started on Buffy’s calves now, “if you mean, was he any good? Then yes; he’s the sort that thinks that if the girl enjoys herself then its better for him, right?” Eos stopped to put more oil on her hands before getting back to work. “So many of the gladiators here are a bit ‘bull at a gate’ if you know what I mean, but Caius is nice, gentle too.”

“Oh,” Buffy frowned as she studied the teenager and reassessed her preconceived ideas.

The girl had breasts and hips, she didn’t look like a child she was a young healthy woman who enjoyed having sex with strong, virile, athletic men. Okay, a lot of strong, virile, athletic young men true; was she really any different to the average cheerleader? What really worried and confused Buffy was the fact that the fourteen year old girl rubbing oil into her leg muscles had more sexual experience than she did!

“Just how often do you have sex?” Buffy found herself asking.

“Oh,” Eos shrugged as she switched her attentions to Buffy’s other leg, “I draw lots two rest days in three.”

Earlier Eos had explained how the young women of the school drew lots to see which gladiator they’d have sex with.

“Aren’t you worried about like, getting pregnant?” Buffy asked.

“No,” Eos shook her head, “why should I?” The girl smiled down at the poor confused barbarian, “It’s perfectly natural and Dominus doesn’t beat or sell any of the women who fall pregnant and anyway I take precautions, they mostly work.”

“Precautions?” Buffy wondered, perhaps if…she quickly pushed all ideas about having any sort sexual relationship with Caius to the back of her mind; ‘precautions’ that ‘mostly worked’ just weren’t good enough.

“So,” Eos grinned down at Buffy, “how often did you have sex when you were a barbarian queen?”

“Me?” Buffy felt slightly inadequate as she admitted the truth, “Like never.”

“What!” Eos was shocked and said so, “I’m shocked, I thought you barbarian types were at it morning, noon and night!”

“Look, I keep telling you I’m not a barbarian queen,” Buffy sighed as she laid back on the rolled up towel under her head.

“You must have been to afford all the asses’ milk baths,” Eos said with just a twinge of jealousy, “you’ve got such beautifully clear skin, so you must have been a queen or at least a noble woman.” Eos paused and took a deep breath, “So, you’ve never had sex?”

“No,” Buffy shook her head as unaccustomed feelings of inadequacy filled her mind, “never.”

“But you like Caius,” Eos had stopped massaging Buffy’s legs and was sitting there with her hands in her lap looking down at her, “Do you like him enough to have sex with him?”

“Maybe,” Buffy admitted, the last man to touch her in any sort of romantic-sexual way had been Angel (she corrected herself, Angel had been the _only_ man to hold her like that) and that had been ages ago. “But I couldn’t, you know…”

“Couldn’t what?” Eos asked mater-of-factly “Have his cock thrusting into your cunny?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Buffy gave her friend an exasperated look, “Dominus might not be worried about you getting pregnant but I think he’d be pretty pissed at me if I did.”

“Hmm,” Eos pondered the problem as she got to work on Buffy’s thighs, “you know there are other ways of pleasing your man than letting him between your legs.”

“There are?” Buffy had heard some vague stuff from friends at school, but she didn’t know the details and was worried she’d mess it up.

“I can show you if you like,” Eos offered as her hand slipped up Buffy’s inner thigh until it brushed against her vagina.

“OH!” Buffy shivered, “That’s like, maybe a little too high there Eos!”

“A lot of sexual frustration there, I think,” Eos went back to work on Buffy’s thighs, a little lower down this time, “I’ve got a special massage for that if you like?”

“You have?” Buffy’s voice almost cracked, she swallowed hard and tried to speak normally, “You know, I don’t think that’s like necessary.”

“Trust me,” Eos smiled, “it’s fun and so much better than doing it yourself!”

Buffy whimpered quietly and wondered why she’d ended up in this world of sex mad homicidal maniacs.

0=0=0=0

**Lady Fidelia’s Villa, Rome.**

Heaving the wooden box out from the bottom of her closet, Faith smiled as she opened the lid. Lifting the sword from where it lay on top of her old clothes she pulled the blade from its scabbard and studied the metal closely. Before she’d put it away she’d cleaned it and oiled it most thoroughly and now there wasn’t a trace of rust anywhere along its twenty-four inches. Testing the edge with her thumb she frowned, the edge wasn’t all that it could be but half an hour or so with a whet stone would soon fix that.

Sitting on the edge of her bed she turned the sword over in her hand; this was the sword that Lucius Vorenus had dropped in the forum when Pompey’s men had attacked Mark Anthony and the men of the Thirteenth. This was the sword that she’d picked up and used to cut her way out of that riot. This was the sword she’d used to kill the sauropithecus; this was the sword she’d not touched since before she’d fallen pregnant with Niobe, she shook her head that must be two, no, nearly three years ago now.

“Well,” Faith spoke to her sword like it was an old friend, “looks like I’m going to need ya again.”

“Mother?”

Turning at the sound of the boy’s voice, Faith saw her eldest son, Marius standing in the doorway watching her.

“Who are you talking to mother,” the boy took a step or two towards his mother.

“Just an old friend, kid,” Faith, the mother, smiled at her son, “come over and meet him.”

The boy went to sit on the bed next to his mother.

“Sword,” Faith said with a smile, “this is my big guy, Marius.” Faith remembered a small boy slaughtering imaginary Gauls with his toy sword in the forum, “Marius, this is ‘sword’, he’s saved my life more than a few times.”

“Thank-you sword for saving my mother,” Marius said gravely, he turned to look into his mother’s eyes, “why didn’t you call it by a proper name?”

“Didn’t seem to be any point,” Faith shrugged, “sword knew who he was.”

“You’re going to use him and fight again, aren’t you mother?” Marius asked quietly.

“Never could fool you for long,” Faith smiled, “too quick witted for ya old mom,” she put her arm round the boy’s shoulder, “too much like ya dad.”

“Will you be going far?” Marius wanted to know.

“Doubt I’ll be goin’ outta Rome, this time,” Faith explained, “maybe a little but not far.”

“Good,” Marius nodded doing his best not to show his concern; he loved his mother she wasn’t like the mother’s of his friends, she talked to him like an equal and she told such wild and exciting bedtime stories. “You will be careful won’t you? I’d take it amiss if you didn’t come back.”

“Hey,” Faith grinned as she turned to look at the boy, “listen to you soundin’ all grown up!”

“I’m thirteen, mother,” Marius informed her secretly wishing that he was a small boy again who could sit in his mother’s lap and give her a cuddle.

“Look,” Faith pulled her eyes away from the boy and looked out the window, it was starting to get late, “I’ll be back, I always come back. The monster that can kill ya old mom ain’t bin born yet.” Faith laughed, that was very probably true, “Anyway I’ve gotta come back, when you go to military school next summer you’ll need a sword, so I thought you could take mine.”

Frowning a little, Marius wondered what the reaction of the other boys would be when he told them that he carried his mother’s sword on his hip. After only a little thought he decided he didn’t care, his mom was the bravest woman in Rome, in the world even.

“Hey,” Faith squeezed Marius’ shoulder, “must be near bed time, you better get on.”

Reluctantly Marius stood up and turned to his mother, “Do you have to do this, whatever it is?”

“Sorry, kid,” Faith shrugged, “fate of the world an’ all that cra…stuff,” Faith didn’t know what she’d end up facing but it was probably something bad, if this gladiatrix girl turned out to be another venetrix (she smiled and corrected herself, after all these years she even thought in ‘Roman’) another slayer. Why was she here, what sort of big bad would it need two slayers and a witch to fight?

“I’ll be in to tuck you in later,” and to make sure you haven’t got a slave girl hidden away under the covers, Faith added to herself.

“Oh, mother!” Marius complained, “I keep telling you I’m thirteen!”

“Thirteen, shmerteen, whatever,” Faith laughed, “now get!”

Watching the boy leave, Faith picked up the sword again, “Looks like you an’ me against the world again, kid…” Faith started to search around inside the box, “…now where’s that whet stone?” Faith the slayer wanted to know.

0=0=0=0

**The House of Batiatus.**

“Buffitrix,” Sempronius stomped across the sand of the training yard towards Buffy.

It was early afternoon and Buffy was looking around for someone to challenge, she’d noticed that since she’d humiliated Ariovistix there’d been a marked reluctance on the part of the other gladiators to challenge her.

“Yes Coach?” Buffy turned to face the man with a bright smile on her face, she was feeling so much more relaxed after Eos’ special massage the other night.

“Buffitrix,” Sempronius stood before her, “I’ve just been informed you’ll be fighting in three days time.”

“Any idea where, Coach?” Buffy asked, she found she didn’t feel worried anymore by the thought of having to fight and kill.

Perhaps she was getting used to it, perhaps it was the effects of Eos’ magic fingers, maybe it was the promise Eos had given her to arrange a meeting with Caius and herself, somewhere private. Whatever it was she no longer had to wrestle with her conscience before going out and cutting men into screaming, bloody lumps of quivering flesh.

“You’ll be fighting in one of the smaller arenas in Rome,” Sempronius informed her.

“Smaller than Alsium?” Buffy asked slightly disappointed she’d been hoping for a bigger audience.

“About the same size but its small for Rome,” the old man smiled down at her, “you’re going up in the world, girl, it’ll be the Arena Maximus for you soon.”

“Cool,” Buffy grinned, the bigger the arena the bigger the pot of prize money and the more money Lentulus would make from her and the happier he’d be; Buffy had quickly realised that keeping your owner happy was important to a slave.

“I know it’s a little late in the day to use in your next fight,” Sempronius was saying, “but I want to widen your fighting abilities.”

”Great,” Buffy agreed, “what you got in mind?”

“Sword and knife,” the old coach put his hand on her shoulder and led her over to the perimeter wall where they wouldn’t be in the way, “it’ll be useful skill to know if you lose you shield and it’ll teach you another style of fighting.”

“Fantastic,” Buffy smiled, “when do we start?”

“Tomorrow morning’s soon enough I think,” Sempronius laughed; he’d noticed a change in the girl recently she appeared almost eager to fight and she didn’t seem to be holding herself back any more. “In the mean time I’ve got someone new for you to practice with,” he chuckled quietly, “I’ve noticed even Marcellus is reluctant to face you.”

“Who’ve you got, coach?” Buffy looked eagerly around the yard looking for any new faces.

“Spartacus!” Sempronius called to a man who was standing over by the baskets of practice weapons, he turned and trotted over. “Spartacus has come to us from one of the schools near Capua,” the coach explained, “he’s a double swords man, I’m hoping he’ll be a challenge for you.”

“Maybe,” Buffy looked the new guy up and down; like every other gladiator at the school he was young, fit and heavily muscled, his only distinctive feature was a pronounced dimple in the middle of his chin. “I’ll take him for a test drive ‘round the block for you.”

“Buffitrix,” Sempronius frowned down at her his hands on his hips, “sometimes you say the strangest things, now go and get your weapons.”

Walking back across the yard between the struggling pairs of gladiators, Buffy remembered she’d heard about this Spartacus guy. He was supposed to be some sort of champion from down south, he must have cost Lentulus a small fortune if he was anywhere near as good as they said he was. Picking a good sword and shield, Buffy armed herself and trotted over to where Sempronius and Spartacus waited for her.

“Attention!” Sempronius called bringing a halt to the fighting in the yard, “Buffitrix has challenged Spartacus…”

Buffy hadn’t but she was willing to let the formality slide.

“…I want everyone to watch and learn,” Sempronius gestured for the two fighters to move to the centre of the yard as the other gladiators formed a circle around them.

Gladiator and Gladiatrix faced each other across the sand, Buffy with her sword and shield, Spartacus with his two swords.

“So,” Buffy shrugged as she settled her practice armour more firmly onto her shoulders, “you’re Spartacus.”

“So,” grinned Spartacus, “you’re Buffitrix the Barbarian Queen.”

“You better believe it,” Buffy smiled for a second before she launched herself at Spartacus.

Raining blows down on Spartacus, Buffy chased him across the sand. He was good, she freely admitted it, so far his experience had negated her speed. But, she’d noticed he’d started to breath heavily and she hadn’t even started to work up a sweat yet. Plus, once or twice there’d been a look of desperation in his eyes as one of her attacks almost got through his defence. Standing watching the fight, Sempronius frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hector,” Sempronius called to his fellow coach, “do you see what I see.”

“I think so,” Hector nodded, “she’s relying on her speed and endurance too much, this is all very spectacular but it gives a skilled opponent too much time to gauge her style and find an opening.” Hector watched for a moment longer, “At least every attack she launches is different from the last.”

“Yes,” Sempronius agreed, “she doesn’t fall into a pattern.”

“She must learn to go for the quick kill when she needs to,” Hector pointed out.

“We will have to break her of these bad habits,” Sempronius agreed, “for her own good…” Sempronius paused as Spartacus launched a swift and deadly counter attack. “See what I mean!”

“OW!” Buffy staggered away from her opponent and covered herself with her shield as she rubbed her right breast with her sword arm, she snapped at Spartacus “Bastard! Not fair!”

“Just one more reason women should stay out of the arena,” Spartacus laughed before resuming his fighting crouch, “come on little girl lets finish this.”

“Little girl is it?” Buffy crouched behind her shield as she hefted her sword in her hand, it really was time to finish this. “I thought they’d warned you, I’m Buffitrix,” she informed him in a low menacing voice, “I kill them all!”

“That’s better!” Hector cheered; Buffy had launched a devastating attack on the other gladiator, she’d already sent one of his swords flying through the air causing some members of the audience to duck or raise their shields to protect themselves.

“This is what we need to encourage,” Sempronius nodded his head as he watched Buffy beat Spartacus to his knees, “we need her to be more of a showman and learn how to gauge her opponents so she can vary her fighting style.”

“Show woman,” Hector corrected.

“Whatever,” Sempronius shrugged his shoulders.

“Yield!” Buffy presented her sword to Spartacus’ throat, she had him disarmed and on his back in the middle of the yard, her left foot pressed down on his chest holding him down.

“You know,” even in defeat Spartacus appeared unconcerned, “from down here I can see that you’re truly a girl!”

“Why you!” Buffy stopped herself from jumping back so the downed gladiator couldn’t see up her skirt, instead she whipped her sword away from his throat and rammed it painfully hard against the man’s crouch, “How’d you like to be a girl too?”

“I YEILD!” Spartacus cried a worried look on his face.

Relaxing, Buffy stepped off the man’s chest and turned to walk away.

“Until the next time,” Spartacus called softly, “this isn’t over yet girl.”

Pausing in mid stride Buffy glanced disdainfully over her shoulder, “If you think you’re totally hard enough,” she told him.

0=0=0=0


	12. Chapter 12

12.

**The House of Batiatus.**

It was just after dawn as Buffy climbed up into the back of the cart that would take her and her comrades to the arena in Rome. Walking to the front of the wagon she sat down on the rough wooden floor behind the driver’s seat. Pulling her travelling cloak more tightly around her shoulders against the early morning chill, she watched as the other gladiators clambered into the cart behind her. As she did so she wondered how many of them would still be alive by the end of the day.

Today, The House of Batiatus was supplying fourteen gladiators to the games, enough for two carts, plus the wagon carrying their armour and weapons. Both, Sempronius and Hector would be accompanying them today, as would Antoninus and Eos. The remaining gladiators left behind at the school were either injured or too inexperienced to fight. They were being left in the care of Spartacus; Dominus Lentulus was as usual trying to avoid going to Rome, as he really disliked the city.

Seeing Eos climb up to sit beside the driver of her cart, Buffy smiled at the girl and noticed the metal collar she was wearing. The collar told anyone that found her to return her to Lentulus Batiatus where they would receive a reward if she was returned in good condition. The collar had been cold riveted around the girl’s neck and would be removed once she returned to the school. Another of the guards climbed up into the back of the cart and worked his way down the wagon bed until he came to Buffy where he began to chain her ankle to the bar that ran the length of the cart.

“How come,” Buffy sulked, “Eos gets a fancy new collar and all I get is a length of rusty old chain?”

“Because,” Ramon said from beside her, “if Eos ran off or got lost someone would just bring her home,” the Spaniard grinned at her broadly, “If you were to run off and someone tried to bring you home you’d probably rip their head off!”

The other gladiators chuckled as the guard worked along the line of gladiators chaining each of them to the metal bar. As soon as the guard jumped to the ground the cart started to move towards the gate.

“No Caius today?” Gannicus the gladiator who sat the other side of Ramon from Buffy asked.

“Nah,” Ramon shook his head sadly, “he was too tried to make it today,” he grinned as he nudged Buffy, “Trix here wore him to a numb last night.”

“I did not!” Buffy cried indignantly as the other gladiators laughed good naturedly.

“So what were you two doing after the evening meal and before lock up?” Gannicus wanted to know.

“We were just talking,” Buffy lied as everyone else laughed.

“Talking?” Ramon looked at her as if she’d turned green, “Well, I’d like to know what you’d been talking about because when he came back he looked like he’d been hit over the head with a rock and enjoyed the experience!”

“Not telling,” Buffy smiled smugly as she remembered Caius’ lips on her’s, his hands on her breasts and between her legs; the taste of his cock in her mouth.

“Yeah!” Gannicus cried happily as he pointed at Buffy, “That’s exactly the look that Caius had on his face when he walked back to his cell!”

Once again the gladiators laughed and passed ribald comments up and down the cart, Buffy didn’t mind, she knew they meant nothing by it. You had to grown a thick skin when you spent all your days in the company of a bunch of lewd and licentious young men.

“Hey!” she called back in an attempt to, if not silence their joking, then at least hit back a little, “You’re only jealous, at least I got some last night and wasn’t jerking off in my cell like you losers!”

“OW!” Ramon slapped his knee as he laughed fit to burst, “Look out! The kitten has claws!”

Slowly everyone calmed down as they began to talk of other things. After a little while the gladiators in Buffy’s cart shifted themselves around as much as their leg irons would allow. Eventually they made enough space on the cart bed for them to play dice for the small bronze coins they all carried. When it came for Buffy’s turn to roll the dice she had to lean across Ramon to roll the dice on the floor. As she rested her body across his, he gave his friends a lewd smile as he licked his lips suggestively.

“In your dreams, Spain-boy,” Buffy said menacingly as she rolled the dice across the wooden floor.

“You’re always in my dreams, little Buffitrix,” Ramon replied wistfully.

“Yeah and this is about as close as you’re ever going to get to my sweet hide,” Buffy pointed out without rancour.

“You mean…?” Ramon gasped much to the amusement of his fellows.

“Yeah,” Buffy quipped, “the only chance you’ll ever have of getting anywhere with me is when Hades freezes over!”

Buffy won the dice roll and picked up a couple of small coins as her winnings before rolling again.

“Then I better make an offering for a change in the weather!” Ramon slapped Buffy’s shoulder in a comradely way as the dice were passed on to the next player.

Growing bored with dice, Buffy picked up her coins, she’d broken even, and sat so she could pass the time of day with Eos. It seemed Lentulus had taken Sempronius’ idea to heart and sent Eos to help stitch up any of the fighters who got injured. The quality of Medicus’ varied wildly from arena to arena. Some were experts at their trade while others were little more than butchers. At least Eos knew how to stitch up a wound and apply a poultice and dressing correctly.

After almost an hour and a half travelling, Buffy and Eos caught their first sight of Rome. Whistling softly Buffy wondered at the size of the place. Somehow she’d always imagined it to be like a small town, from what she could see it definitely looked bigger than Sunnydale, much bigger. Her wonder at her first view of Rome was soon brought crashing down around her feet when the little convoy passed into the city through one of the many gates in its walls.

The streets were narrow and full of noisy people who hurried by not giving a second look to the carts full of gladiators. There was rubbish in the gutters where feral dogs scavenged for food. Women, who Buffy recognised as prostitutes, paraded their almost naked bodies in the streets for all to see. The buildings reminded her of the old photographs of European slums she’d see in her history books. It wasn’t until they crossed one of the main avenues that Buffy saw some public building that actually looked like what she imagined Rome should be like.

“What do you think?” Eos asked.

“Bit disappointing really,” Buffy replied.

“I know what you mean,” Eos agreed, “see those pillars?” The girl pointed to some columns holding up the front of a temple, “Marble over brick! In Greece they’d be solid marble.”

The convoy turned off the main avenue onto a road that was slightly wider than most in this part of Rome, it led them directly to the Arena Viminalis. As they approached the arena, Buffy noticed an increase in the foot traffic, all of it headed towards the arena.

“Free games this,” Eos told her, “Put on by some senator,” Eos’s screwed up her face as she tried to think of the man’s name, “Ah! Got it!” She snapped her fingers, “Senator Lecherous Maximus…”

“Who!?” Buffy asked between giggles.

“Senator Lecherous Maximus,” Eos repeated not seeing anything odd about the senator’s name, “He’s putting on these games to buy the support of the plebes.”

“Oh-well,” Buffy sighed, “at least politics never changes.”

The convoy drove around the arena until it got to a gate where it turned down a ramp and disappeared under the arena. Having never been in an arena, Eos was all eyes looking around at the strange sites and sounds. On the other hand, Buffy considered herself an ‘old hand’ at arenas now and spent her time pointing things out to Eos. As far as she could see the arena was a slightly smaller copy of the one in Alsium.

“Trust the Romans to standardize everything,” Buffy observed.

“I know what you mean,” Eos nodded her head, “no imagination!”

0=0=0=0

**The Arena Viminalis, Rome.**

Eventually the carts stopped and the gladiators were released from their chains to carry their gear down to the waiting arena under the arena floor. Once again the Batiatus gladiators got an alcove to camp out in that had a large barred window looking out onto the arena itself. Not long after they arrived the first batch of condemned convicts were sent out to kill each other.

“Wow!” Eos stood on a bench her hands clutching the bars of the window, “This is so exciting.”

Climbing up next to the girl Buffy watched the desperate struggle out on the sand with a cold professional eye.

“Oh, this is like, nothing special,” she told the girl, “this is just something to warm up the crowd. The really good stuff only begins after the midday meal.”

“When do you fight?” Eos asked excitedly.

“Late afternoon,” Buffy replied as she watched the last two convicts kill each other in a way that bordered on slap-stick; the crowd hooted with laugher as she sniggered to herself.

“Idiots!” Buffy spat in disgust, “Just goes to show.”

“What’s that?” Eos turned once again to look at her friend.

“You’ve totally got to keep your wits about you when you’re out on the sand.” Buffy stepped down from the bench, “Come-on,” she tugged on Eos’ dress, “come and give me a hand with my gear.”

0=0=0=0

The day passed with the novelty fights interspersed with more professional bouts that both participating gladiators had a good chance of surviving. Late in the morning, Ramon went out onto the sand to fight a gladiator from another school. He won his fight, but as the crowd didn’t think his opponent had fought hard enough they gave him the thumbs down and Ramon killed the man. In the afternoon, Bodvoc the Gaul went out to fight for the honour of the school. Unfortunately he lost but as he’d fought bravely against a much more experienced gladiator the crowd spared his life to fight another day.

It was mid afternoon when Hector came to help Buffy arm herself. Today she was wearing a new arm guard made from segmented strips of metal that slid over one another as she moved her arm. The guard gave better protection than chainmail for only a slight increase in weight. While Hector checked the straps that held on the guard and went around her chest under her breasts and over her shoulder; Eos checked the bindings on her sandals and strapped on the grieves which would protect her shins. Next came her shield, this was her personalized shield with a fanged skull painted on the face; lastly came her new helmet with its tall red plume. As usual she’d pick up her sword from the armourer.

“You know what to do?” Hector asked while Eos smeared red cosmetic paste on Buffy’s nipples. “It’s not so much that you kill them,” Hector went over the plan again, “the important thing is the speed with which you do it, understand?”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head, “totally got it coach.”

“Good,” Hector smiled down at her and slapped her on the shoulder, “fight well and die bravely Buffitrix!”

“Y’know, Coach,” Buffy looked up at her teacher, “you really ought to think up a new way of wishing a girl good luck!”

“Here!” Eos appeared in front of Buffy like a manic jack-in-the-box, she kissed Buffy on the lips hard enough to draw cat-calls and wolf-whistles from the watching gladiators. “For luck!” She cried.

“Yeah, right!” Buffy staggered a little from the force of the kiss.

“I think Caius needs to look to his laurels!” Called a voice that sounded a lot like Ramon’s.

“Maybe what they say about Greek girls is true…” said another voice but Buffy didn’t find out what they said about Greek girls, she wasn’t really listening; instead she was concentrating on the cheers of the crowd outside, by the sounds of it Gannicus was coming to the end of his bout.

“Better get to the armourer,” Hector spoke softly into Buffy’s ear.

Nodding, Buffy turned away from her friends, climbed the stairs to the corridor outside and made her way along to where the armourer waited.

“Buffitrix,” she announced herself to the keeper of weapons, “I have my own sword.”

“Yes,” nodded the armourer, “I know you; here,” he passed Buffy her sword, “good sword that.”

“Yeah,” Buffy tested the weight of the weapon in her hand; because she had a relatively small hand the grip of the sword had been especially made to fit her hand and hers alone. “Every girl should have one.”

Continuing along the passageway, Buffy eventually came to the vestibule behind the Gate of Life. Before she put on her helmet she put her eye to a knot-hole and looked out onto the sun bleached sand. Seeing Gannicus standing over his opponent, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, she liked Gannicus and she would have thought it a bad omen if a gladiator from her own school had died just before she went out to fight.

Slipping her helmet onto her head, Buffy laughed at herself for becoming so superstitious. It didn’t matter whether anyone she knew died before she went out to fight. Whether she lived or died depended on her skill with sword and shield. It was nothing to do with people wishing her luck, or Eos kissing her, or whether she remembered to smear the red paste on her nipples. No, when you got right down to it, it all depended on how much she wanted to stay alive and at the moment she really did want to stay alive. Now she had Caius she had something to live for again.

The gate swung open and Gannicus strode into the chamber where Buffy waited, he pulled off his helmet and grinned down at her, he was sweating profusely and breathing heavily.

“Good crowd today,” he gasped, “very good natured and merciful…” he walked on down the passageway as he called over his shoulder, “good luck Trix, knock ‘em dead!”

“Yeah right,” Buffy stepped out into the arena and walked briskly towards the centre of the fighting area. 

As she walked she heard a smattering of applause, a few cheers, more wolf-whistles and even more lewd comments. There were also more than a few invitations to suck the caller’s cock! Smiling in the privacy of her helmet, Buffy chuckled, all those hopefuls would be out of luck today, there was only one man’s cock she’d be sucking when she got home tomorrow!

Raising her sword in salute to the man in the Editor’s box, who she assumed to be Senator Lecherous Maximums, Buffy called out the standard greeting.

“We who are about to die salute you,” she cried before adding to herself, “you fat, malodorous, sexual deviant, who fucked his own mother’s corpse!”

Turning away from the Editor’s box, Buffy shook her head sadly; she couldn’t help feeling that living in Ancient Rome had coarsened her more than a little.

Standing more or less in the center of the arena with her left foot pointing towards the Gate of Death, through which her opponents would come, Buffy brought up her shield and hefted her sword in her hand feeling strangely comforted by its familiar weight. Any moment now four pairs of prisoners would come tumbling through that gate. Each pair would be chained together at the wrist, they’d be armed with a variety of hand weapons and be desperate to fight, win and save their worthless lives.

Having no problems with the idea of killing yet more men, Buffy knew their deaths would bring her ultimate goal of freedom for herself and Eos that little bit closer. She also knew that she would kill them all, this in itself wasn’t important. What was important was how quickly she did it, that’s where the bets would be won or lost. Somewhere in the arena was a man with a water clock, as soon as the first man stumbled out of the gate opposite her, he’d open the spigot and the water would run into a measuring container. As soon as she’d killed the last man he’d turn it off and the winnings would be calculated.

Her sharp ears picked up the sound of the gate opening even over the noise of the crowd and through her helmet. The gate was about half way open when the first pair stumbled, half blinded, out onto the sun baked sand. Rushing forward, Buffy killed the first pair with economical thrusts of her sword before they’d even realised she was there to fight them.

The next pair was a little more alert, but this didn’t stop her stabbing the man with his right wrist chained to his partner in the throat and killing him instantly. Leaving the other man to struggle with his bonds; he now had the dead weight of a body on the other end of the chain, Buffy went on to the third pair. These tried to fight as a team, which was the sensible thing to do. But they’d not been given time to practice so once again, Buffy easily killed one of the men leaving the survivor to struggle to escape his dead comrade.

The last pair came at her trying to use the chain connecting them as a weapon. They attempted to catch her between them and wrap her up in the chain so they’d be able to close in and kill her at their leisure. Unfortunately for them, Buffy had already thought of this as a possible tactic. As the men came at her she back peddled nimbly across the sand while at the same time crabbing slightly towards her right. Stopping suddenly she smashed the rim of her shield up under the closest man’s chin. He spat blood and teeth over her as she rammed her sword into his belly.

“Ewwww!” Buffy squealed in disgust as she glanced down at her blood splattered breasts, “Gross!”

Stepping forward she decapitated the surviving man with a powerful cut of her sword. The crowd cheered enthusiastically as the head spun across the sand and blood fountained up into the air.

“Right!” Buffy turned to check on her last two prospective victims.

One man was trying to drag his dead partner away, what he thought he’d achieve by doing this Buffy couldn’t imagine. The other survivor was still trying to free his hand from the metal cuff on his wrist. All he was achieving was to make his wrist and hand a bloody mess. Stepping over to the closest man Buffy parried a couple of wild cuts at her body and head. Stepping back out of range as the man overextended himself she watched him fall onto the blood damp sand. Stamping down onto his sword hand with her hobnailed sandal she heard the bones in his wrist break over the hoots of laughter and shouts of encouragement coming from the mob. Reaching over almost daintily, she stabbed him through the back. Feeling her sword pass through his body and into the sand, she crossed the man off her mental ‘to do’ list. Just as she was straightening up, Buffy cried out in surprise and pain as something hard and heavy hit her on the back.

“OWWW!” Buffy turned angrily to confront the man who held his sword in one hand and the length chain in the other.

In a flash she knew what he’d done, he’d done what she would have done, only she’d have done it much sooner. He’d freed himself from his dead partner by simply chopping off the dead man’s hand. If it’d been a matter of life or death and she’d found herself in the same position, Buffy doubted she would have waited for her partner to die before lopping off his hand and freeing herself.

Advancing rapidly on the last man Buffy took a hit on her shield and swept the chain to one side while parrying a sword thrust to her belly. Seemingly leaving herself venerable she saw the light of hope flicker in the man’s eyes just before she brought her shield around with inhuman speed. The man was still moving forward as the edge of her shield caught him on the bridge of his nose. Stopping in his tracks like he’d walked into a wall he groaned as blood erupted from his smashed in face. Moaning softly he fell to his knees and dropped his sword onto the sand. Stepping lightly to one side of the man Buffy got behind him, put the edge of her sword against his throat and cut it open with a flourish, much to the delight of the crowd.

Holding her sword and shield up in celebration, she skipped across the sand making her breasts bounce jauntily as she acknowledged the cheers of the mob. After doing a slow lap of victory around the arena, she stood in front of the VIP box and saluted the Senator again before heading towards the Gate of Life. Buffitrix, the Barbarian Queen had won again. The only thing Buffy was concerned about as the cheers and chants of the crowd rang in her ears was how much money she would have won.

0=0=0=0


	13. Chapter 13

13.

**Faith’s villa, Rome.**

“Thank Jove you got my message!” Faith called as Solonius, her butler, showed Willow into the atrium.

“I came as soon as I could,” Willow watched as Faith paced back and forth across the room in a state of high agitation, “what’s wrong?”

About half an hour ago a messenger had arrived at Willow’s magic shop with a note from Faith telling her to come quickly. Guessing that the message was important (Faith had written it in English) Willow had picked up Zofiya and with only Aeneas to accompany her, headed straight away for Faith’s home.

“I got news that the gladiatrix girl is in town today,” Faith explained as she stopped pacing for a heartbeat and looked Willow up and down for a moment before saying, “that dress will never do…LICINIA!”

“Hey Faith!” Willow gave the child in her arms a concerned look, “you’ll wake the baby.”

“Sorry?” Faith appeared to notice Willow’s child for the first time and that Aeneas was standing just to one side of his step-mother. “Sabia!” Faith called less raucously, almost immediately the nurse appeared, Faith gave the woman her instructions, “Take Mistress Shani’s baby will you and look after her for today.”

“But!” Willow started to object but Faith silenced her with a look.

“Willow,” Faith pursed her lips, “if you’re going to combine a secret career in saving the world and motherhood ya gonna have to get over ya freakin’ prejudices about wet-nurses. Zofiya will be fine, Sabia has milk enough for everyone!”

“You’re going to save the world?” Aeneas asked excitedly as he looked up at his mother and then at his Aunt, “Will there be monsters?”

“I don’t know,” Willow replied more than a little confused; she reluctantly handed over her daughter to the nurse, “Up to a moment ago I didn’t know I was going to be saving anything today,” Willow looked around at Faith who’d resumed her pacing, “Tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Aeneas,” Faith looked down at the boy, “Fidie’s in the stables, go find her I’m sure the two of you can think of something to do together.”

Torn between possible monsters and the prospect of spending some quality time (unsupervised by adults) with his Aunt’s daughter, Aeneas did what any red blooded, Roman boy would do.

“Goddess!” Willow cried in surprise as Aeneas disappeared towards the back of the house, “I’ve never seen him move so fast!”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed with a chuckle, “one of these days, we’re gonna have to separate those two with a crowbar.”

“So,” Willow decided not to go to the place that Faith’s mind had wandered off to and asked her question once again, “what’s going on?”

“Late last…” Faith began only to be interrupted by her personnel maid.

“Domina?” The woman stood to one side of the room watching her mistress intently.

“Licinia!” Faith turned towards her maid, “I need you to find Mistress Shani a better dress, something suitable for her to go with me to the games.”

“The games!” Willow gasped in horror, “But I don’t…”

“Ya goin’ today,” Faith told her, “no arguments.”

“But the game’s are icky,” Willow said in a small voice, “an’ all those people killing each other.”

“Suck it up Willow!” Faith spoke sharply to her friend, “Stop whining and be a Roman for a day!”

An uncomfortable silence fell across the room.

“Sorry,” Faith sat down heavily on a couch and started to fan her face with her hand, “time of the month…but I still shouldn’t have snapped at ya like that.” Taking a deep calming breath Faith glanced at her maid, “Dress?”

“I think the green would be suitable, Domina,” Licinia appeared to be measuring up Willow by eye alone, “we might have to take it in here and there…”

“Good,” Faith nodded her head, “quickly please.”

“At once Domina,” Licinia swept from the room.

“Sit down, Will,” Faith looked over to where Willow stood, “please, I promise not to bite, kick, or scratch.”

Cautiously Willow crossed the room and sat down on the couch next to Faith, she reached out to take her friend’s hand in her own.

“What’s going on, Faith?” Willow asked for a third time.

“It’s like my skins on fire,” Faith tried to explain, “I can feel the evil all around me like something that’s just out of sight in the dark.”

“Evil?” Willow frowned, “That’s weird coz I’ve been doing, like, locator spells and scrying for evil an’ I’ve come up empty…zip!”

“Oh!” Faith replied in surprise as her eyes searched the atrium for monsters that weren’t there, “I feel like if I could just reach out my hand I’d be able to touch it.”

“Dreams?” Willow wanted to know if Faith’d had any slayer dreams.

“Some,” Faith admitted, she let go of Willow’s hand so she could pour them both a glass of water. “Usual unhelpful crap,” Faith almost laughed, “y’know, just as ya about to see who the big-bad is the credits start to roll.”

“Hate it when that happens,” Willow agreed, she’d been know to have a few weird dreams herself, but hers were more to do with what had happened in Sunnydale; somehow she still seemed to be haunted by her past. “The gladiatrix?” Willow prompted after a short pause to sip her water.

“Yeah, right,” Faith seemed more settled now and had lost the red flush to her face, “late last night one of my veterans reported that he’d seen a gladiatrix fighting in the arena up Viminalis way.”

“That’s on the other side of town,” Willow mused.

“Which was why I didn’t find out ‘til late last night,” Faith pointed out.

“You should have called straight away,” Willow pointed out.

“Sorry!” Faith replied sarcastically, “But my phone won’t be working for a couple of thousand years, okay?” Taking a deep breath Faith calmed herself down and sighed, “Sorry, like I said, time of…”

“…the month, I know,” Willow gave her friend a small smile, “makes you wonder why our husbands stay with us.”

“Hey,” Faith grinned and gestured to the room, “Ya notice Marius ain’t here?” she paused for a heart beat, “Business trip, or so he says, odd how he always disappears for a week about the same time every month.”

“You don’t think…?” Willow gasped.

“Another woman?” Faith shook her head, “Nah, it’s just that Marius has a good sense of survival, always has…it’s the servants I feel sorry for.”

“Whatever,” Willow shrugged, “gladiatrix?”

“Yeah,” Faith nodded slowly as she collected her thoughts, “she’s fighting again today, don’t know when, so we better get on. I had one of my men reserve some good seats first thing, so we won’t have to sit with the plebes.”

“Goddess forbid you’d have to do such a thing!” Willow laughed lightly, “Fancy the Great Lady Fidelia having to sit with common plebes!”

Before Faith could come back with a snappy reply, Licinia reappeared and took Willow away to fit her into one of Faith’s dresses. Sitting by herself, Faith sipped her water; she couldn’t even remember having a green dress. These days she had so many dresses she had to have a girl to look after them full time. So different from before she married Marius, back then she’d had exactly four dresses; one of them was for when she was out hunting vamps, another was for slouching around her apartment. One had been given to her by Lady Atia when her own dress had been ruined by a Lust Demon at one of Atia’s fancy parties (Faith of course had been there in a purely ‘slayer’ capacity). The other dress, well, she wore that one when she wanted to look slutty.

How her life had changed, from a one room apartment to three villas’; factories and major wealth all in the space of a couple of years. Some times she kicked herself for not marrying Marius sooner, like when he’d first started asking her. He was a good husband, good in bed, loyal (she didn’t think he stayed with her just because he knew she’d cut his balls off if she ever found him with another woman), no he really loved her, she felt sure of that now.

“Well,” Faith smiled to herself, “after five kids, he better love me.”

“Domina?”

“Solonius?” Faith looked up to see her butler standing by the door.

“The litter bearers will be here shortly,” the man told her.

“Yeah, thanks,” Faith pushed herself to her feet, sometimes she felt so tired, it never seemed to matter how many bad guys Willow and herself dealt with, there were always more, “I’ll go get ready.”

0=0=0=0

**The Arena Viminalis, Rome.**

“KNOCK HIS FREAKING HEAD OFF!” Willow screamed as the gladiators fought on the blood soaked sand, “GO ON! KILL THE BASTARD!”

“Hey, hey,” Faith reached out and pulled her friend back into her seat, “calm down, you’ll get us thrown out, people are looking.”

They’d been lucky, Faith’s servant had managed to reserve them a private box near the VIP box so they had a good view. Unfortunately the people in the VIP box also had a good view of Willow’s antics and were giving the two women some pretty dark looks.

“But-but,” Willow sat down and turned excitedly to her friend, “didn’t you see that?” She pointed breathlessly at the arena, “That big guy was so cheating!”

“Yeah, well, maybe so,” Faith wanted to explain that the concept of cheating had no place in the arena but thought better of it, Willow wasn’t really listening.

The two women had arrived at the arena around mid morning and Faith had been astonished by Willow’s reaction to the ‘games’. After a slow start and after everything Willow had said about disapproving of the games, she’d become more and more excited as each combat passed. On the other hand Faith had watched with a detached professional eye, she’d long ago decided that she could have made mincemeat of the guys who called themselves gladiators nowadays.

“Oh! Darn!” Willow’s shoulders slumped as she looked on miserably as the gladiator she’d been cheering for was killed.

“Here,” Faith signalled her maid, Licinia to pass Willow some wine, perhaps that would help calm her down, “take a drink, sit down and shut up will ya? We’re not plebes, least ways I’m not.”

The minor insult appeared to pass Willow by unnoticed; watching her friend regain some control of herself, Faith shook her head sadly. The arena had changed since her day. Even the pretence of a sporting event had gone. In her day there’d been few deaths, most fights stopped when a fighter was too injured to continue. Now the games were purely to feed the bloodlust of the mob. Sighing at the memory of times gone by, she watched as the dead gladiator was dragged away and replaced by blindfolded, condemned convicts who were herded into the arena and set to killing each other with swords for the amusement of the crowd.

“What’s next?” Faith held out her hand and a goblet of wine magically appeared in it; she’d already grown bored with the antics of the blind convicts.

“Erm,” Willow picked up the program to read from the list of events, “says here something about the goddess Athena fighting the demons of Hades. Do you think that could be our girl?”

“Sounds like,” Faith nodded, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the surviving convicts were being herded off the sand. The few bodies were quickly removed by the arena slaves and a hush fell over the crowd as the editor made his announcement. Only a few moments after the editor had finished his speech, seven big men in grotesquely shaped armour and costumes walked slowly out onto the sand. Watching the men Faith guessed that they weren’t real gladiators, but they were experienced warriors, she could tell by the way they held their weapons.

0=0=0=0

Standing in the chamber behind the Gate of Life, Buffy gave her weapons a final check; first she adjusted her helmet so it fitted more snugly on her head. Next she hefted her sword in her hand more out of habit than fear there might be something amiss with it. Today she also carried a foot long dagger in her belt as a back up for her gladius; she doubted that she’d need it. Shifting her shield she checked that the scratches from her previous fight had been polished off it. Lastly she flexed her right arm and watched as the strips of metal making up her arm guard slipped easily over one another.

“Cool,” Buffy smiled, the clever way the guard had been made always impressed her; rolling her shoulders she checked that the straps holding on the armour didn’t pinch.

Finally glancing down at her breasts Buffy noted that her nipples were a nice shade of pinkie-red and stiffly erect, Eos was a marvel with the cosmetics.

“Good to go,” she told herself as the gate swung open and she stepped out onto the sand.

Apparently ignoring the opposition, Buffy walked over to stand in front of the VIP box and raised her sword in salute.

“We who are about to die salute you,” Buffy cried aloud and then in the quiet of her helmet she added, “and I wouldn’t vote for you if you paid me to, you fat pig!”

0=0=0=0

“What’s that she’s saying?” Lecherous Maximus asked the Editor, having seen Buffy’s lips keep moving after she’d given her ritual salute.

“Oh, erm,” the editor thought up an answer quickly, it was one he’d used many times before, “probably just a prayer to her barbarian gods, Senator.”

“Oh,” Lecherous nodded his head wisely all the time wondering what it’d be like to bed the little gladiatrix.

0=0=0=0

“This hardly looks fair,” Willow muttered darkly, “I mean, like she’s tiny wasn’t Athena supposed to be twelve feet tall or something?”

“Look, Willow,” Faith turned her head towards her friend, “how many times have I got to tell ya, fair don’t enter into it in the arena.”

Something wasn’t quite right here; Faith watched the little gladiatrix turn to walk towards her adversaries, she thought there was something familiar in the way the woman made her way confidently over towards where the warriors stood. Somehow Faith had the strangest of feeling this was going to be a very one sided fight, but not in the way people might expect.

0=0=0=0

The first warrior to die had made the mistake of thinking that Buffy was just a girl playing at being a gladiator. He died for his prejudices as she stepped nimbly into his guard and gutted him with a swift jab of her sword before he’d even stopped laughing at her. The remaining six warriors cast each other wary glances before spreading out and trying to envelope her, it did them no good.

The warriors made the error of coming at Buffy one at a time allowing her to meet each attack with either sword or shield; after each attack a warrior lay dead on the arena floor. The mob went wild as the bodies stacked up and fresh blood soaked into the sand. The battle was soon reduced to comedy as the last warrior ran around the arena trying to escape this demon in human form. The mob howled with derision as the warrior ran this way and that and Buffy chased after him her breasts bouncing provocatively as she ran.

0=0=0=0

“YAY FOR WOMEN’S LIB!” Willow yelled as the diminutive gladiatrix cut down warrior after warrior with powerful, blindingly fast cuts of her sword.

By contrast Faith sat calmly in her seat watching the combat with growing concern; she knew of only one person who could match the girl in the arena and that was herself. Only another slayer could do what the girl was doing.

0=0=0=0

Eventually Buffy caught up with her quarry, she could have caught the man anytime but she’d wanted the fight to last a few more minutes. Sempronius had told her she needed to make this bout more of a show for the mob. So instead of simply finishing the fight with a quick, clean kill, Buffy started to demolish the man as he tried to defend himself against her lightning fast attacks. A cut here, a stab there, a finger or thumb cut off, a bone broken. Slowly the man was reduced to a sobbing bloody wreck as the mob bayed for more blood. Eventually the warrior gave up even trying to defend himself and appealed to the crowd and begged for mercy. The mob simply laughed at him calling on Buffy to torture the unfortunate man some more.

0=0=0=0

Feeling sick to her stomach Faith forced herself to keep watching. So, she’d killed men in the arena before, but she’d never played with them like a cat with a mouse. She’d known that the men set against her had no chance so she’d killed them quickly and cleanly and got out of the gladiatrix business as soon as she could and became a Venetrix. Killing an animal quickly was appreciated as it showed the venetrix’s skill. But what this gladiatrix was doing was just sadistic murder.

0=0=0=0

Standing over her victim Buffy watched as he tried to crawl away from her, by now he was no longer a man he was just a thing of blood and pain that tried feebly to escape his tormentor. Raising her sword she stabbed the man in the back. His feet drummed on the wet sand as his head came up and he cried out his death rattle. With a final vicious twist of the blade Buffy pulled her sword free and stepped away from the body. Holding her sword and shield high Buffy bounced across the sand as if she was running on air, her blood flecked breasts jiggling up and down obscenely.

0=0=0=0

Watching the girl Faith remembered doing something similar at the end of her fights to encourage the dirty old men in the audience to throw more coins.

“That was great!” Willow turned and clutched hold of Faith’s arm excitedly.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded her head slowly as she spoke without great conviction, “fantastic.” Feeling greatly troubled, Faith watched as the gladiatrix ran back to salute the VIP box, the more she saw of the girl the more she felt like she should know her from somewhere. “Hey,” Faith once again pulled Willow back into her seat, “don’t you know her from somewhere?”

“No,” Willow gave Faith a puzzled frown, “like, she’s a slayer, gotta be,” Willow pointed out, “maybe that’s why you think you know her.”

After saluting the Senator and the great and good that shared the box with him, the gladiatrix turned to accept the cheers of the mob once again. The crowd started to chant a name as Faith strained her ears to hear what they were saying. Slowly the jumbled cries of the mob coalesced into a single chant.

“Buffitrix! BUFFITRIX! **BUFFITRIX**!” On and on went the chant until it seemed to fill the entire world.

“Jupiter, Greatest and Best!” Faith gasped as she watched the girl take off her helmet and she saw the blonde hair plastered with sweat around an all too familiar face.

“Goddess!” Willow cried as she caught sight of what’d made Faith cry out.

“B!” Faith exclaimed.

“Buffy!” Willow sobbed, the word catching in her throat as she reached for another goblet of wine.

0=0=0=0


	14. Chapter 14

14.

**The Arena Viminalis, Rome.**

Keeping his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword Sextus Ennius led his mistress through the dark, fetid, labyrinthine corridors under the arena. Although he had three of his best men with him and his mistress, who was no stranger to the use of a sword, he still felt uneasy about bringing her down into this cesspool of depravity. The corridors and chambers were alive with prostitutes, gladiators, actors and other scum of the earth. If anything happened to his mistress while they were down here, he’d better die fighting to save her because if he went home to his master without her, Marius Arsenius would insist that he fall on his own sword.

“Why so grim, Sextus?” Faith asked her guard captain as they made their way along a wide corridor into the depths of the arena’s underworld.

“Domina,” Sextus glanced at his mistress, “this is no place for a lady, you should’ve stayed up top with Mistress Shani.”

“Mistress Shani is drunk, an’ ya do remember,” Faith smiled at her guard captain’s concern, “that I used to be a gladiatrix and spent some time in places like this.”

“Yes, Domina,” Sextus nodded his head, “but if you’ll excuse me for saying; that was then this is now, your husband would not approve.”

“Get the pilum outta ya ass Sextus,” Faith told him crossly, “an’ lighten up! I’ll deal with what my husband thinks or says.”

“Of course, Domina,” Sextus was duty bound to obey his mistress’ orders, but that still didn’t mean he was happy about it, “Hold!” Sextus raised his hand and the little group came to a halt at a junction, he turned to speak to Faith once again. “With your permission Domina, I’ll go on ahead and try to find this slave’s owner.”

“If it makes ya happy,” Faith agreed with a sigh.

“You three,” Sextus turned and pointed an unwavering finger at the three guards with them, “if anything happens to the Lady Fidelia and I find you still alive, I’ll kill you myself, understand?”

“Yes Boss,” replied the three men wearily.

After giving the three guards a look that would warp armour, Sextus Ennius plunged into the semi-darkness in search of the gladiatrix’s owner.

0=0=0=0

“YAY!” Cheered Eos as she ran over to Buffy and gave her an excited kiss, “Ewww!” Eos stepped back from her friend and looked down at the new blood stains on her apron, “Blood!”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed as she pulled the shield from off her arm, “that last bit was mega messy.”

“Come over here,” Eos led Buffy by the hand to a clear place on the stone bench which ran along the wall of the chamber. “I’ll get the armour off you then I’ll sponge off that blood.”

“Well done,” Sempronius called as he joined the two young women, “here let me help you with your gear.”

“Thanks Coach,” Buffy sat down on the hard stone seat and someone passed her a wine jug; she took a healthy swig before looking back at her trainer. “Was that alright?” Buffy asked quietly, “What I did to that last guy.”

“Alright?” Sempronius grinned as his strong blunt fingers worked on the blood soaked buckles that held on Buffy’s armour. “It was perfect,” he reassured her, “perfect timing, you whipped the mob to a frenzy and killed the scum just at the right moment, HA!” he laughed, “Always leave ‘em wanting more.”

“Good,” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as Sempronius removed her arm guard, “I thought I’d gone too far there for a moment, y’know?”

“No,” Sempronius smiled down at his protégé, “you did it perfectly, girl…” The old coach’s voice trailed off as he saw four armed men and a lady of quality walk into the chamber. “Eos,” he said distractedly, “clean Buffitrix up I’m going to see what these want.”

“Right Boss,” Eos replied as she started to sponge the blood from Buffy’s arms and body.

0=0=0=0

“Can I help you, Domina?” Sempronius ignored the armed guards and looked directly at the obviously wealthy Lady.

He knew from long experience that some rich women, having grown bored with their husbands liked to fuck gladiators. While he had no opinion on what the quality did in their spare time he had a duty to his Dominus and his fighters.

“You in charge here?” Faith asked the grizzled old warrior who towered over her by a head or more.

“I have the honour of representing my master, Lentulus Batiatus,” Sempronius confirmed.

“Good,” Faith smiled up at the old guy, “then I’ve come to the right place.”

“That depends what you’ve come for, Domina,” Sempronius pointed out.

“Yeah, right,” Faith laughed as she realised what the guy must be thinking, “Hey look, I’m not here to screw with any of your guys,” Faith cast her eyes over the gladiators that stood or sat around the chamber. “Not that they’re not all cool looking guys and if I wasn’t totally happy with my husband there’s…” Faith paused for a moment as she realised she was starting to babble, but she just couldn’t help herself. “There’s gotta be five or six of ‘em that I’d be…” Faith managed to put a break on her tongue before she said anything else stupid. “You guys own the gladiatrix who was fighting just now?”

“Yes Domina, she belongs to by master,” Sempronius nodded his head slowly, perhaps he’d misjudged this woman, perhaps she was a sapphist and wished to spend the night in the arms of little Buffitrix.

“Can I see her?” Faith asked.

“I suppose…” Sempronius frowned down at the lady, letting her just see Buffitrix should be alright he supposed. “Buffitrix!” He called, “Come here, one of your well-wishers wants to meet you.”

Watching closely, Faith saw Buffy walk slowly across the chamber towards her. 

“Jeez!” Faith gasped under her breath as her eyes took in Buffy’s blood smeared skin and the blood spattered little white skirt which was the only thing she was wearing; however on the plus side she looked neither malnourished nor mistreated.

“Coach?” Buffy looked up at Sempronius wondering what was going on, she ignored the dark haired, thirty-something lady for the time being.

“The lady…” Sempronius frowned again, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, Domina?”

“Fidelia,” Faith replied absently as she continued to study Buffy, “Wife of Marius Arsenius.”

“Of course,” Sempronius bowed his head, he’d never heard of her, however she did look slightly familiar.

“I used to be called Fidelia Venetrix,” Faith explained hopping that the Coach might cut her some slack if he remembered her name from her time in the arena.

“AH HA!” Sempronius laughed, “Now I know where I’ve seen you! You broke my wrist once.”

“I did?” Faith looked up at the man again, to be honest she couldn’t remember ever seeing him before, “Sorry, man.”

“That’s what you said at the time,” Sempronius grinned, “you offered to pay for my doctor.”

“No hard feelings?” Faith asked hopefully, she still couldn’t remember the incident.

“None,” Sempronius shook his head, “best thing to happen to me, convinced me to buy my freedom and get out of the gladiator trade. As you can see I went into teaching. If you don’t mind me saying, Domina, you’ve done well for yourself over the years.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, “not half bad.” Putting her hand on the old guy’s shoulder, Faith brought her lips closer to his ear, “Look man, seeing how we’re old arena buddies an’all, ya mind if I have a quiet word with ya girl here?”

“Of course, Domina,” Sempronius nodded his agreement, “she might appreciate talking to another woman who’s trodden the sands of the arena.”

“Right on,” Faith agreed.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Sempronius withdrew two or three paces and then went about his business.

Turning to her guards, Faith signalled for them to back off, reluctantly Sextus Ennius gathered his men together and went to stand by the door to the chamber. Turning towards Buffy, Faith looked her up and down one more time before speaking.

“Hi, B,” she smiled, “how ya doin’?”

“Domina?” Buffy bowed her head towards the Lady and wondered why she’d called her ‘B’.

“Hey, come on,” Faith smiled nervously, was there something weird going on here? “Ya gotta remember me, ya nearly killed me once, remember?”

“I’m sorry Domina, but I don’t know you,” Buffy was worried now; why was this strange but obviously wealthy woman accusing her of nearly killing her?

“Look up girl,” Faith spoke like she was talking to one of her servants, it worked, Buffy looked up but still wouldn’t meet her eyes, she was a well trained slave and obviously knew her place. “Look at me, are you sure you’ve never seen me before?”

“I’m sorry Domina,” Buffy replied meekly, while at the same time wondering just how much trouble she’d be in if she had actually tried to kill this woman…a lot probably, “but I don’t recognise you.”

“Look,” Faith said letting the desperation creep into her voice, “it’s me ‘Faith’ you’ve gotta remember me, I musta made some impression on ya when I tried to kill ya honey an’all!”

“My ‘honey’, Domina?” Buffy looked up, she couldn’t help herself; she didn’t know what the woman was talking about, “I’m sorry Domina I don’t know what you mean?”

“Don’t sweat it, kid, I know all about ya,” Faith wondered if Buffy was just playing dumb for some reason or perhaps she’d lost her memory; either way this was no place to push the issue, “I’ll get ya outta here.”

“Not without Eos,” Buffy jerked her head towards where Eos was checking the dressing of one of the wounded gladiators.

“The girl?” Faith shrugged, “No problemo, I’m mega rich.” Faith sort out Sempronius and called him over, “Hey, Coach, how much?”

“Sorry Domina?” Sempronius looked questioningly at Faith.

“How much for,” Faith paused trying to remember what the big guy had called Buffy, “Buffitrix here an’ the girl, I wanna buy ‘em.”

“I’m sorry, Domina,” Sempronius replied gravely, “but Buffitrix is not for sale.”

WHAT!?” Faith shrieked causing Sextus Ennius to rush over to her side sword drawn, “Look man,” Faith pulled a heavy purse from the folds of her dress and shook it enticingly in front of the coach’s face, “everything’s for sale in this town.”

“That may be, Domina,” Sempronius said politely but firmly, “except for Buffitrix, her master has no wish to sell her right now.”

“But…” Faith bit down on the angry words that threatened to burst from her mouth, yelling at the ‘help’ wasn’t going to change anything. “yeah, okay, sorry for yellin’ man,” Faith signalled Sextus to back off. “Okay so she’s not for sale, I understand, ya just doin’ ya job I’ll talk to this Lentulus guy see what he says.”

“You are quite welcome to do so, Domina,” Sempronius continued politely, “but I fear that you will be disappointed. My master has no plans to sell Buffitrix any time soon; you’ll be wasting your time.”

“Well,” Faith shrugged her shoulders, “it’s my time to waste,” Turning back to Buffy she smiled encouragingly, “don’t worry B, we’ll get ya outta here!”

0=0=0=0

“Do you know that woman, Buffitrix?” Sempronius placed his hand on Buffy’s shoulder as he walked back with her to the spot where she’d been sitting.

“No Coach,” Buffy shook her head, “never seen her before in my life, but…”

“Hmm,” Sempronius brought them both to a halt and looked down at Buffy an extremely serious expression on his face, “You’re not lying to me are you, Buffitrix?”

“No Coach,” Buffy replied with all the sincerity she could muster.

“This wouldn’t be some strange plot of yours to run away, would it?” He wanted to know.

“No Coach,” Buffy shook her head, “I’ve never seen that woman before today, I don’t know who she is and I don’t know what she wants.”

“I believe you,” Sempronius reassured her, “whether Dominus will is another matter.” The old warrior sighed heavily, “Until then I don’t want you wondering off alone always make sure one of the men is with you.”

“But I promise not to run off, Coach,” to tell the truth the visit from the dark haired woman had worried and upset Buffy; of course, she’d never run off without Eos.

“I’m not worried about you running off,” Sempronius explained, “but its not unheard of for people to steal other people’s property.”

“Hades!” Buffy exclaimed, “Grand Theft Buffy!”

0=0=0=0

**Faith’s villa, later that day.**

“I think I know what’s going on here,” Willow began wisely; she lay on the couch next to Faith’s with Zofiya firmly attached to her breast. “This totally isn’t the Buffy we know,” she explained, “this is like a totally different Buffy that probably never met you…like you’re not the Faith I knew.”

“What!?” Faith gasped and turned to stare at Willow, “What d’ya mean? Of course ya know me!”

“Look,” Willow sat up swinging her legs over the side of the couch before putting her child over her shoulder and starting to pat her back. “Remember that afternoon you gave me that long rambling apology for trying to kill me back in Sunnydale?” 

Faith nodded her head.

“Well,” Willow looked guiltily at the floor, “I never said anything at the time coz you were being so sincere and I totally didn’t want to upset you but…”she took a deep breath, “…I have no memory of you ever trying to kill me.”

“What!?” Gasped Faith, “But I nearly knocked ya head right off ya shoulders!”

“No you didn’t,” Willow tried to explain, “at least the Faith I knew didn’t…”

“Hey, Red,” Faith gave her a very puzzled and exasperated look, “talk sense will ya? I definitely remember tryin’ to kill ya.”

“Look,” Willow continued as Zofiya threw-up milk down her mother’s back, “what I remember is that even when you went over to the Mayor’s side and fought with Buffy you never tried to harm me or Xander. You said your argument was with Buffy and Giles and as long as Xander and I kept out of your way you’d not harm us.”

“Gods below,” Faith gasped as she slowly realised what her friend was telling her, she laughed lightly as she remembered something, “y’know, I did wonder why you looked so pleased to see me…after y’know, I’d tried to kill ya an’all.”

“Yeah,” Willow nodded slowly, “we’d like, totally never met before we bumped into each other in the forum that morning.”

“Cack,” Faith sighed with a shake of the head.

“Look,” Willow shrugged at her friend while she started to clean herself and her daughter up, “I don’t know what’s going on like with the universe an’all. But it looks like this Buffy never knew you.”

“Suppose so,” Faith agreed, “if what ya sayin’s right,” Faith continued slowly, “ya know it’s not nice to know ya were never a part of someone’s life.”

“But you were,” Willow tried to explain, “who knows in some other reality you an’ Buffy could have been totally bestest buds and it was me she didn’t know.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Faith sighed, “all this crap is makin’ my head hurt.”

“Me too,” Willow admitted, “look I better be going, Titus’ll start to worry.”

“Can’t bear to be away from the old stud for a single night, eh?” Faith joked, “I’ll have Sextus and some of his men walk you and Aeneas home.”

“Thanks,” Willow stood up and started to prepare herself for the journey home.

“Oh yeah,” Faith grinned at Willow, “ya might wanna talk to that boy of yours.”

“Why?” Willow asked suspiciously as the two women walked slowly towards the door.

“Yeah,” Faith was finding it difficult to keep a straight face, she knew she should be playing the angry mother right now but she just couldn’t, “when we got home I checked on the kids, an’ I found ya boy’s cock in my daughter’s mouth!”

“WHAT!?” Screeched Willow, “But they’re…”

“Hey, it coulda been worse,” Faith tried to school her face into an appropriate frown, “an’ don’t be too hard on the boy after all it takes two to tango…or in this case…”

“I’ll…I’ll…!” Willow was turning puce and was, quite literally, lost for words.

“Don’t worry,” Faith continued, “I’ll be havin’ more than a few words with Fidie,” she shrugged, “Hey,” she shrugged helplessly, “kids today, huh?”

0=0=0=0

**Arena Viminalis, at about the same time.**

Like three bored monkeys, Buffy, Eos and Ramon sat in a line on the stone bench against the wall of the chamber, apart from a couple of wounded men they were alone as everyone else had gone off to take part in the game’s finale; a re-enactment of the Rape of the Sabine Women. Toying with the chain that connected her to the big iron ring in the wall, Buffy decided that it was too heavy even for her to break, perhaps if she could work on the blots that held the ring to the wall for a while she’d be able to get free.

Not long after the weird rich lady had left, Sempronius had appeared with a heavy iron collar and chain in his hand. He’d explained it was for Buffy’s own good and was to prevent anyone stealing her. Although she’d tried to explain that she had no intention of being stolen, especially not by weird rich women, Sempronius had still locked the collar around her neck and chained her to the wall.

“Hey!” Ramon, nudged Buffy in the ribs; he and Eos had been left to guard and keep Buffy company, “You know I’m missing out on a free fuck here?”

The sounds of killing and ‘rapine’ echoed around the chamber from the arena outside.

“It’d be difficult not to,” Buffy replied; at that moment a gladiator was ‘raping’ one of the whores who’d been employed to play the part of one of the Sabine Women; he was doing it right in front of the window.

“Well,” Ramon shrugged as he turned to grin at Buffy, “I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to sucking my cock, y’know in compensation like?”

“You’re gross,” Buffy turned to give Ramon a bored look, she was used to these sorts of invitations by now, “you know that, right? You wave that thing in my direction and I’ll rip it right off!”

“But you do it for Caius,” Ramon pointed out reasonably.

“Caius is my boyfriend,” Buffy countered.

“I’ll suck your cock,” Eos volunteered as she leant forward to look around Buffy’s body at the Spaniard.

“Fair enough,” Ramon smiled as he started to loosen his loin cloth and Eos got up, walked around Buffy and knelt in front of the gladiator.

“Oh my gods!” Buffy groaned as she turned her head away from the couple, “You know I’m sitting right here, right?”

“So?” Ramon smiled as Eos got to work between his legs.

“Oh…oh!” Buffy closed her eyes and tried to block out the sound of sucking, “Just try not to make too much noise will you, I’m going to try and get some sleep.”

Perhaps, Buffy told herself as she closed her eyes and tried to block out all the sounds around her, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone did steal her.

0=0=0=0


	15. Chapter 15

15.

**House of Batiatus.**

After wiping around her mouth with a rag, Buffy rested her head on Caius’ chest and sighed contentedly. Her hand roamed over his warm, smooth muscular chest; she could hear his heart beating strongly and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she’d ever ‘gone’ with Angel. Where Caius’ skin was warm and bronzed, Angel’s would have been cool and pallid. Where Caius’ heart beat strongly and comfortingly in her ear, Angel’s heart would have been still and silent. Shivering slightly, Buffy thanked the multitude of Roman gods that she’d now never have the chance to see where her relationship with Angel would have led her. Her thoughts of Angel, brought the memory of the visit she’d received from the rich lady at the arena to her mind.

“A funny thing happened at the arena yesterday,” Buffy announced as Caius pulled her closer and started to stroke her back.

“What’s that?” He murmured.

“It’s a big building with gladiators in it,” Buffy jabbed her lover in the ribs with her elbow.

“OW!” Caius squeaked in surprise, “What was that for?”

“For not paying attention,” Buffy told him.

“Alright I’m listening,” Caius relaxed his grip on Buffy’s body; as she described her meeting with the rich woman.

“…she seemed pretty desperate to buy me,” Buffy conclude her story.

“And you say she knew of your tribe,” Caius said just to prove he’d been paying attention.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head against Caius’ chest, “but I’m sure I’ve never seen her before.”

“So she’s not of your tribe?” Despite himself Caius found Buffy’s story intriguing.

“Definitely not,” Buffy replied firmly.

“Perhaps she learnt about your people from travellers,” Caius suggested.

“A big _no_ on that one,” Buffy sighed half wishing that this mysterious woman did have some connection to her. “My _tribe_ is from sooo far away that no one in Rome would have heard of them.”

“They found you, didn’t they?” Caius pointed out truthfully.

“That was totally an accident,” Buffy felt Caius’ hand start to roam over her body; she gave a little shiver of desire, “I’ve no idea how I ended up where I did, so…”

“Shut-up woman,” Caius stifled any protest Buffy might have made with his lips as he pushed her onto her back.

“But…!” Buffy tried to continue with what she was saying but was silenced again as her lover moved his mouth from her mouth to her nipple and his hand started to stroke her between the legs.

As the passion rose in her body, Buffy very nearly told Caius to make love to her properly but managed to stop herself. As it was if anyone were to ever find them in the little storeroom they used for their clandestine meetings they’d both get a good whipping (Buffy had long ago decided that Eos would never take a beating in her place). If she got pregnant her deal with Lentulus would go out the window and Caius would be sold at the very least; at worst Lentulus might have him crucified. Even as Caius’ fingers insinuated their way inside of her and her body started to respond, part of Buffy’s mind stayed crystal clear. Proper sex would have to wait until she was free, until then she’d take what she thought was safe, after all three years would soon pass.

0=0=0=0

“Good evening, brothers,” Spartacus sat down on the stone bench next to Marcellus and Ariovistix as they sweated in the steam room.

“Brother,” Marcellus replied, “you honour us with your presence.”

“Your greeting is miss placed brother,” Spartacus sighed sadly, “after my defeat at the hands of little Buffitrix.”

“That whore-devil,” Ariovistix spat angrily.

“Of course,” Spartacus looked around into the steam, as far as he could tell they were alone, “you have both felt the wrath of our little Barbarian Queen.”

“She is un-natural,” Marcellus mutter angrily, “she is a vile stain on the honour of the House.”

“Indeed,” Spartacus nodded his head sympathetically, “and you Ariovistix, you have no reason to love her?”

“No,” the big Gaul shook his head, “what’s it to her how I chose to discipline one of the whores?”

“Ah,” Spartacus might be many things but he wasn’t a fool and he never beat on a woman unless she really deserved it; he particularly didn’t beat women who had powerful friends. “Don’t get me wrong, friend, but you may have brought that on yourself.”

“What do you mean by that!?” The Gaul started to rise but was held back by Marcellus’ hand on his arm.

“All I mean is,” Spartacus continued in a placatory tone, “that it might be best not to discipline a woman who has a strong and vengeful friend.”

“She caught me unawares,” Ariovistix subsided slowly, “the next time I’ll beat her into the ground.”

“Of course she did,” Spartacus smiled, “just like she caught Marcellus here ‘unawares’, so unawares in fact that she didn’t even bother picking up a weapon,” Spartacus turned his head to look at Marcellus, “right sneaky that, isn’t that right, friend?”

“I suppose you let her beat you,” Marcellus replied bitterly, loath as he was to admit it Buffitrix had beaten him fair and square.

“No,” Spartacus admitted, “she beat me, I even confess to being over confident, after all she’s just a girl,” he smiled at a memory he still held in his head, “and I can assure you she is indeed a girl, I saw her cunny clear as day and one day I’ll do more than just see it.”

“You intend to fight her again?” Ariovistix asked.

“No,” Spartacus shook his head, “although it pains me to say it I don’t think the three of us could defeat her before she wore us down and killed us.”

“But…” it was Marcellus’ turn to show his anger at what Spartacus was implying.

“Friends!” Spartacus laughed lightly and held up his hand for peace, “Listen to me, brothers. If we were to fight this little she-devil she’d kill us all, have no doubts on that. The annoying thing is that she’s not a particularly skilful fighter, but then she doesn’t have to be.”

“What are you saying?” Marcellus demanded, “When she defeated me she certainly seemed skilled enough then!”

“Listen, brothers,” Spartacus continued conspiratorially, “she’s good but she’s not that good.”

”What do you mean?” Ariovistix had to admit to himself that Buffy had beaten him and she’d certainly appeared skilled to him.

“She is fast and strong,” Spartacus pointed out, “stronger than any woman has a right to be, stronger than even the strongest man…”

“She did kill Vastus Phallus,” Marcellus pointed out, “and he was reputed to be the last of the Titan’s!”

“…and” Spartacus looked from one man to the other, “she never seems to tire, she could beat on us all day and never even work up a sweat.”

“So,” Marcellus gave his new friend a crafty look, “how do you intend to kill her, that is what you intend, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” Spartacus nodded his head slowly.

“Poison or a knife in the dark would be dishonourable,” Marcellus pointed out, “I won’t have anything to do with a plot to simply assassinate her.”

“No, no, no!” Spartacus exclaimed as he calmed his confederate’s fears, “I agree, that would be dishonourable and would bring even more shame down on the House.”

“So,” Ariovistix shrugged resignedly, “if we can’t fight her or assassinate her how do you intend to kill her?”

“There’s more than one way to fuck a whore,” Spartacus chuckled deep in his throat, before adding, “completely honourable ways.”

“Explain,” Marcellus demanded to know Spartacus’ thinking.

“It just so happens,” Spartacus smiled knowingly, “that a little bird told me that our great Barbarian Queen has been chosen to fight in the First Citizen’s games next week.”

“So?” Marcellus shrugged, “What difference will that make? She’ll take part in a few novelty matches, kill her opponents and the mob will love her for it. How does this help us?”

“Ah,” Spartacus’ smile grew wider, “I have many friends at the Arena Maximus and…” Spartacus paused to draw out the tension, “…I know which hands need to be greased so our little Buffitrix will end the day dead…in a completely honourable way of course.”

“All that you say about Buffitrix might be true,” Marcellus pointed out, “but she has the skill, strength and stamina to kill anything that’s set against her.”

“Her strengths won’t help her in a situation where she can’t use them,” Spartacus announced knowingly. “I’ve seen a copy of the provisional program and I can arrange to have her put in a fight that she’s highly unlikely to win.”

“But if she does?” Ariovistix couldn’t keep the worry completely out of his voice.

“Nothing will come back on us,” Spartacus explained, “it was just some error made by a scribe who miss copied a list.”

“Tell us more,” Marcellus demanded as the three men’s heads came together and Spartacus laid out the details of his plan.

0=0=0=0

**The Caelius District of Rome, that very same night.**

The streets were quiet and dark, empty of even dogs and whores as the old man made his way fearfully through the night towards his home. He’d not intended to stay out this late, he’d simply gone to do some business with one of his many business partners and had lost track of the time. When he’d noticed that it was dark outside his friend had offered to give him a bed for the night, but, Kappos (a Greek fruit merchant) had refused and had headed for home by himself, he was now regretting his decision. 

He’d walked less than half the way to his house when he’d noticed he was being followed. At first he thought it was robbers but no common thief could move like this one. It seemed to Kappos that as soon as he thought he’d lost whoever was following him, the thief, or whoever it was, would appear in front of him and he’d have to change direction to avoid him. This had happened several times and now Kappos was sure he was lost. Dodging around the corner of an alley he threw himself against the wall of a house and pulled his dagger from under his robes. Many years ago he’d been a soldier and he knew how to protect himself, he intended to wait there and confront whoever it was that’d been following him.

After what felt like an eternity the thief had not appeared and Kappos got to thinking that he’d lost the man in the jumble of streets and alley’s. Peeping around the corner of the building, he looked along the moonlit alley and saw nothing moving. He sighed with relief before turning with every intention of going home as quickly as he could and never again setting foot on the streets of Rome after dark. It was then Kappos walked right into his pursuer.

Gasping with surprise and fear, Kappos raised his knife ready to strike. The thief’s hand lashed out with inhuman speed taking hold of the old man’s wrist and started to squeeze. Feeling the bones in his wrist begin to crumble, Kappos cried out in pain, he heard the robber chuckle as his free hand took hold of the hair on the back of Kappos’ head and pulled his head back exposing his throat. Kappos had a fleeting glimpse of yellow eyes, a distorted face and long white fangs before those teeth were buried in his throat.

0=0=0=0

Running lightly on bare feet, Claudia Marius came up behind the sanguilipithicus as he fed, she was too late to save the merchant but she’d ensure that he’d be the sanguilipithicus’ last meal. Closing rapidly with the struggling pair Claudia pulled her sword and knife from their sheaths on her belt, the weapons had been especially greased so they would make no sound as she drew them ready to strike. Stopping right behind the sanguilipithicus and his meal, Claudia breathed a sigh of relief, if the sanguilipithicus had heard her approach she’d be dead in a heart beat; she was no Venetrix she was just one of the Invigilator’s many assassins.

Thrusting her knife into the sanguilipithicus’ kidneys, she listened as he cried out in pain and surprise. The blow wouldn’t kill, but it would hurt and distract him; she’d have to work fast before he turned and killed her. Kicking the sanguilipithicus behind the knees, Claudia watched as he let go of his victim and fell to his knees. Letting her knife drop to hang on the long leather thong that connected it to her belt, Claudia placed both her hands on the hilt of her gladius and drew back her arms.

Just as the sanguilipithicus was beginning to regain his wits she brought the sword around and down on the vile creature’s neck. Much to her horror she failed to cut through on the first blow. Quickly freeing her blade from the struggling monster’s neck she cut again and again until his head came free of his body and he turned to dust that fell like snow to cover the corpse of his last victim.

Breathing heavily, Claudia sheathed her knife and looked down at the dead man who lay on the ground. Taking her sword she hacked off his head, she had to make sure that he wouldn’t rise again before his funeral. The Roman custom of cremation helped keep the numbers of sanguilipithicus’ to a minimum…normally. Walking swiftly away from the scene of her little victory, Claudia’s mind raced; she didn’t care what Crassus said there were definitely more sanguilipithicus’ abroad at night. The undead creature she’d just sent to Hades was the third she’d killed tonight. Normally she wouldn’t see that many in a month. At this rate her luck would run out long before the year was over; Claudia didn’t delude herself, it was only by a mixture of luck, surprise and skill that she was able to kill the sanguilipithicus’. If she ever had to fight one she’d be dead in less than a dozen heartbeats. If needs be by her own hand, she’d never let herself be turned into one of the undead. Stopping for a moment, Claudia got her bearings, she was only a short walk from Crassus’ villa, she’d go there and ask the old lecher what he was going to do about the increase in the number of undead stalking the streets of Rome.

0=0=0=0

**The Villa of Marcus Licinius Crassus, Rome.**

The young slave girl whimpered in fear and pain as her new master used her for his nightly entertainment, she gasped with renewed terror as she saw something come in through the widow behind her master.

“Crassus you old goat,” Claudia called as she climbed down from the windowsill, “stop fucking the girl, I bring important news.”

“Hades, woman!” Crassus slipped himself from the slave girl’s body and turned to face Claudia as he rearranged his clothes, “Can’t you use the door like a civilised Roman?”

“Oh dear me, Crassus,” Claudia shook her head in faux disgust as she crossed to a table and poured herself some wine, “how old is that one?”

“Old enough,” Crassus snapped, “now what is it you’ve come to tell me, as you can see I’m busy.”

“Sanguilipithicus’,” Claudia announced having drained half her wine, “more sanguilipithicus’ than you can shake a pilum at.”

“Oh don’t be foolish girl,” Crassus tried to laugh off Claudia’s concerns, “you’re seeing monsters where there are only shadows.”

“Well in that case,” Claudia helped herself to more wine, “I sent three shadows to Hades tonight, one last night and two the night before. It’s getting so a girl can’t walk the streets at night for fear of getting bitten and not in a good way!”

“That many?” Crassus took a contemplative sip of wine, “You’re sure? This isn’t another case of misidentification?”

“I’m sure,” Claudia nodded, “ordinary footpads don’t turn to dust when you cut their heads off.”

“Oh dear,” Crassus shook his head before turning to look at the naked girl locked into the metal frame on the other side of the room, “that is a pity.”

“A pity?” Claudia put down her goblet, “I’d say it was more than a _pity_ that the streets of Rome are being taken over by the creatures of the night!”

“No I didn’t mean that,” Crassus shook his head sadly, “I’ll have to kill the girl now.”

”What!?” Claudia looked over to where the girl sobbed quietly as she hung in her bonds, “Why?”

“She heard what we were talking about,” Crassus shrugged, “slaves talk, sometimes they are believed. If the mob ever got to hear about what happens in the city at night…well I’ll leave that to your imagination.” 

“Couldn’t you just cut her tongue out?” Claudia cast an eye over the girl that she’d so carelessly condemned to death.

“Death is surer,” Crassus told her, “Look I’ll go to the First Citizen tomorrow, see if I can’t persuade him to send in a century of Peculiaris Extraodinarii. Will that help you keep the streets clear of sanguilipithicus’?”

“It’d help,” Claudia admitted, “but what would help more is if we had a Venetrix on our side.”

“I’m working on that,” Crassus told her.

“Not Fidelia Arsenius?” Claudia looked at her colleague in surprise, “She swore she’d kill us rather than work with us again and I’ve heard she’s a woman of her word.”

“I agree,” Crassus laughed bitterly, “I have no wish to have an angry Venetrix out for my blood, no I mean the gladiatrix girl.”

“I heard Batiatus won’t be parted from her,” Claudia observed, “Perhaps he’s fucking her as well as having her fight for him.”

“Perhaps,” Crassus started to drift across the room to where the girl was trapped in the iron frame, “but whatever happens she’ll soon be my property and we can use her to clear the city of the demons that seem to be plaguing us.” Crassus turned to look at Claudia, “Now if you don’t mind I have work to do, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Crassus,” Claudia called as she headed for the window, “the girl?”

“What about her?” Crassus was wondering if Claudia was even capable of using a door like a civilised woman.

“Don’t kill her or cut her up,” the assassin told him, “when you’ve finished with her send her to my house, I’ll pay you what she cost.”

“Getting soft in your old age, Claudia?” Crassus gave a hollow laugh, to be honest he was just a little afraid of Claudia Marius.

“No,” Claudia climbed up onto the windowsill, “but I should have been more careful about what I was saying, she shouldn’t die for my mistakes,” Claudia sighed at her own foolishness, “and anyway she looks like a strong girl, I’m sure I can find a use for her…”

Before Crassus could make any comment, Claudia disappeared out the window, he looked back at the girl and smiled at her tear stained face.

“Looks like it’s your lucky night after all, girl,” he told her, “not completely lucky of course…now where was I?”

0=0=0=0

“Aulus,” Crassus watched as two of his household slaves carried the unconscious girl away.

“Yes Dominus?” Aulus appeared at Crassus’ elbow.

“Oh there you are; what took you so long?” Crassus poured himself a glass of watered wine, “Have that girl sent to the house of Claudia Marius in the morning and make sure she gets there alive.”

“Of course, Dominus,” Aulus was surprised normally his master’s leftovers were consigned to the sewers beneath the city, a traditional way of disposing of unwanted bodies.

“Also have your men find Villanus and Odius,” Crassus sighed he did so hate having to work with plebes, “I will need their services…”

“Anything else Dominus?” Aulus wanted to know.

“…oh you better find Senna the Soothsayer too,” Crassus sighed even more heavily than he had before; the Soothsayer was insane as well as being a witch. “You better check on the household wards before she sets foot in the house.”

“Of course Dominus,” Aulus started to back away from his master, it was late and he’d need to send out men first thing in the morning to find the people his master wanted.

“…and,” Crassus called after the retreating slave, “have them come in the _back_ door, not like last time!”

0=0=0=0


	16. Chapter 16

16.

**The Arena Maximus, Rome.**

Head down the demon charged at Buffy across the arena sand. Just as it seemed that she would be impaled on the creature’s deadly horns she stepped lightly aside and cut at the demon with her sword opening a long thin gash in its thigh. The demon roared in pain as it thundered by, the mob roared in pleasure as they had done every other time Buffy had wounded the beast.

This was the games organised by the First Citizen, Octavian Caesar, to entertain his foreign guests and keep the mob happy. The gladiators from the House of Batiatus had arrived only the day before and were being accommodated in a military barracks outside of the city walls. They were marched to the arena every day just after dawn so they’d be there in plenty of time to start the first performances at about midmorning. The Batiatus gladiators were just a small contingent of all the fighters who’d be taking part in the games. There were gladiators from all over Italy and the Empire; prisoners and convicts had also been collected from all over the know world as had strange beasts; all to entertain Octavian, his guests and the mob.

Watching as the demon ran passed her, Buffy prepared herself for its next attack. This little part of the show had been promoted as ‘Theseia and The Minotaur’ and Buffy had to admit that the demon did indeed bear a close resemblance to the creature of legend. It was big, at least seven feet tall, heavily muscled and had an enormous set of sharp horns growing from either side of it long bull-like face. 

Watching the demon stop, turn and lower its head for another charge, Buffy thanked the gods that in addition to all its other qualities, the demon was plainly stupid. It’d been charging at her trying to catch her on the tips of its horns for the last five minutes. Each time the creature charged, she’d stepped out of the way at the last moment. As the demon blundered by she’d cut it with her sword, never too deeply just enough to draw blood and weaken it. Every time the creature failed to kill her and she layed open its hide, the mob would cheer. It was all rather like what she imagined a bullfight might be like.

The ‘Minotaur’ thundered towards her again, Buffy’s plan of weakening the creature before killing it didn’t seem to be working however. Although blood streamed down the creatures body and legs from each cut, the blood loss didn’t appear to be slowing it down very much. Once again, Buffy jumped daintily out of the way of the creature’s clumsy attack. This time instead of cutting at it, she jabbed it in the flank burying the first two or three inches of her sword into its flesh. This time the demon screamed with pain and staggered away from her coming to a halt four or five yards away.

The mob, cheered wildly at this new twist in the game before settling down again, curious to see what would happen next. As the Minotaur prepared itself for yet another charge, Buffy took a second to glance around the arena to see what was going on in the other combats which were taking part at the same time as her own. There were three other gladiators in the arena with her, each fighting some sort of ‘strange beast’. Some of these ‘beasts’ Buffy recognised from trips to the zoo, others from Giles’ books on demonology. The Arena Maximus, as its name would suggest, was so big that a single pair of fighters would be lost in its vastness. This was why several combats would be staged at the same time so there’d always be something going on to amuse the crowd.

Hearing the Minotaur approach once more, Buffy readied her sword and set her shield more firmly against her shoulder. Perhaps what happened next was all part of some devious demonic plan, or perhaps Buffy had just let her attention slip for a moment. Whatever happened it certainly put new life into the show and excited the crowd.

As before, Buffy stepped to one side to let the demon pass, she’d been careful not to let a pattern develop and had made which way she avoided the charge as random as she could. However, while she’d expected the demon to try and alter the direction of its charge in an attempt to catch her on its horns, she hadn’t expected it to stop or at least hesitate which was what it did this time. Just as it seemed that Buffy would either be run through by the demon’s horns or tossed into the air, she’d stepped to one side to let the creature thunder by. However, just as she started to move the Minotaur hesitated; by the time Buffy had completed her evasive manoeuvre the demon had seen which way she was going and had changed the direction of its charge.

The Minotaur’s forehead hit Buffy’s shield making a loud *CLANG!* as bone hit bronze. Bouncing off the demon’s head Buffy flew through the air to land in the sand three or four yards away. A great gasp of surprise rose from the throats of the crowd, they’d thought the little gladiatrix had the measure of the beast and would surely kill it before they got bored. It appeared that the Minotaur had outsmarted the gladiatrix and had sent her sprawling onto the sand.

Gasping for breath, all the wind having been knocked out of her when the Minotaur had hit home, Buffy tried to push herself to her feet again. Not giving her a chance to recover, the demon charged in trying to gore her with its horns or grab her with its huge hands. Realising that she was in deep trouble, Buffy completely changed her tactics and did something that at first made it look as if she was doomed. As the Minotaur charged in, one of its horns cutting a deep furrow in the sand of the arena; Buffy cast away her sword and shield and scrambled towards the charging monster.

With its head held at an odd angle in its attempt to catch the annoying little human on at least one of its horns, it didn’t notice Buffy coming towards it. Grabbing the demon by its horns, Buffy wrapped her arms around its head, horns and neck and wrapped her legs around its face. This last caused several in the crowd to call out ribald comments about what the Minotaur should do with its tongue just about now; ‘Give her a good licking!’ was amongst the least offensive and more printable of the suggestions.

In her present position, unless the demon was willing to charge into the arena wall, Buffy felt herself fairly safe, for now. Snorting and roaring the Minotaur stood up and tossed its head wildly about trying to dislodge the human who was clinging onto his head and prevented him from seeing where he was going. As the demon tried to grasp hold of her legs, Buffy kicked out managing to prevent the demon from getting a firm hold on her ankles and breaking her in two like a wishbone. Fumbling for her knife, she drew the weapon as the Minotaur kept shaking his head as it attempted to send her flying off into the sand where he could kill her. Taking a firm hold on the hilt, Buffy plunged her blade into the demon just where its head joined its spine.

The Minotaur screamed with pain and seemed to freeze as if paralysed by the knife thrust. Pulling the knife free, Buffy struck again and again until the Minotaur fell to its knees as blood gushed in stinking torrents down its back. ‘Time for the big finish’, Buffy told herself as she jumped off the Minotaur and scrambled across the sand to where her sword lay. Picking up the weapon, she rushed back to where the Minotaur knelt; taking a firm, two-handed grip on her sword she brought the weapon around with all her strength. The blade hit with a solid *THUNK!* as blood flew everywhere splattering Buffy with stinking, black-red fluid. However, even her slayer strength hadn’t proved equal to the task; the Minotaur’s head was still attached to its body by a couple of inches on hide and gristle. 

Raising her sword above her head, Buffy cut again and watched as the Minotaur’s head rolled onto the sand and its body slumped down to lie next to it. Raising her sword in a victory salute, Buffy received the cheers of the mob that were her due; she’d given them a good show and now it was time for them to show their appreciation. Wiping her sword and knife on the Minotaur’s fur, she sheathed her knife before going over to where her shield lay and picking it up. For a few moments she basked in the adulation of the mob; seeing a leather pouch fly through the air and land with a puff of sand on the ground Buffy smiled as she walked over and picked it up. It felt heavy in her hand and she could feel the coins under her fingers, obviously someone in the crowd thought she deserved more than a round of applause.

As she stood up, Buffy happened to glance to her right. Coming towards her she saw a hairy, Bigfoot-like creature, shambling towards her with terror filled eyes. In an instant, Buffy realised what must have happened, the human-like creature had defeated the gladiator set against it and it was now looking to escape the smell and noise filled arena. Turning to face the creature, Buffy could almost fell the fear it radiated as it blundered towards her too frightened to even notice the she was standing in its way. Casting away her shield once more, Buffy knew what she had to do; it would be the kindest thing in the long run. The Bigfoot would never escape the arena; they’d only catch it and keep putting back out to fight until some gladiator eventually killed it.

Letting it blunder into her, Buffy put her arm around the back of its head, held its head tightly against her shoulder and rammed her sword into its belly. The creature gave an almost human cry of pain as it slumped against her. Slowly, gently she let the creature slide to the sand as she knelt down next to it. The Bigfoot looked up into her eyes and she saw its tears start to trickle down its face as its breathing became slower and more ragged.

“Poor beast,” Buffy cooed as she stroked its orange-brown hair away from its almost human face, “time to sleep now.”

Giving one last, great, shuddering breath the creature died as Buffy held its head in her arms. Slowly the sounds of the arena came back to her ears and Buffy noticed that her section of the crowd wasn’t cheering any more. Looking up she saw a thousand pairs of eyes looking down at her in silence. Pulling the sword as gently as she could from the beast, Buffy stood up, walking over to her shield and picked it up before looking up at the mob that still watched her in silenced. As she walked slowly towards the Gate of Life she heard the crowd start to clap their hands, the applause grew louder as she walked but she didn’t turn to acknowledge it, she was frightened that the mob would see her own tears.

0=0=0=0

**First Citizen Octavian’s box, The Arena Maximus.**

The First Citizen did not like the games, he thought they were a waste of time, money and discouraged the plebes from doing something useful with their lives. It’d gone against his wishes, but politics had forced him to finance these games. Not only had he had to use good money to pay for everything but to add insult to injury he’d had to come and watch them; honestly he couldn’t think of anything more boring.

Normally he read paper’s of state while the gladiators struggled on the sand below him. If at any point he was needed to decide the outcome of a fight and the fate of one of the fighters he’d defer to one of his friends or his wife and let them make the decision for him. When he simply couldn’t get out of it he invariably gave the death sign as it annoyed the mob; he didn’t like being there and saw no reason not to spread the pain around a little.

He’d first noticed the little gladiatrix when she was fighting the Minotaur. He’d wanted to keep the creature so he could study it more closely but Marcus Licinius Crassus had assured him that it was far too dangerous to keep, let alone for him to study. Reluctantly he’d allowed it to be taken to be killed in the arena. When he’d first seen the gladiatrix square off against the Minotaur he’d thought the fight wouldn’t last long, but he’d been wrong. The gladiatrix had soon got the measure of the beast and Octavian had grown bored with the fight and gone back to his papers.

When he’d next looked up the girl had wrapped herself around the Minotaur’s head and was stabbing the creature in the back of the neck with her knife. He’d even clapped a little when she’d brought the beast to its knees and cut off its head. As the young woman hacked off the monster’s head, Octavian frowned. When he’d been a youth, little more than a boy really, he’d met a female fighter who’d come in and out of his life over a period of several months; later she’d killed that strange blue lizard man in his mother’s own atrium.

Thinking hard he tried to remember her name, he never forgot a name, particularly of those who had been of service to him and the dark-haired gladiatrix had certainly been of service to him. What was more she was loyal and knew how to keep her mouth shut. Fidelia, the name came to him in a flash. After the fight with the sauropithecus she’d married some rich merchant, now instead of fighting she had a large family and ran her own arms business; she’d always been an unusual woman.

Watching as the little gladiatrix killed the ape-man, Octavia frowned again as she held the creature in her arms and appeared to be comforting it in its final moments. He was also surprised at the way the mob became still and silent before it burst out into applause as the girl made her way slowly towards the Gate of Life.

“Cassius,” Octavian called the Editor of the games to him.

“First Citizen?” Cassius adjusted the badly fitting red wig he was forced to wear as Editor.

“Who was that gladiatrix?” Octavian had no interest in the girl sexually, he was just curious in the same way as if he’d seen a new species of beetle or butterfly.

“Erm, one moment, First Citizen,” Cassius looked down a long list written on a piece birch bark that’d been passed to him by his slave, “Ah, yes here we are; she’s down on my list as, Buffitrix, the Barbarian Queen, House of Batiatus, sir.”

“A Barbarian Queen, eh?” Octavian gave the Editor one of his most soul destroying smiles, “We don’t see many of those around these days…” then added to himself, “…more’s the pity.”

It was several moments before Cassius realised that the First Citizen wasn’t going to say anything else. Having been so rudely dismissed it took him a moment to realised that the action in the arena had stopped and it was time to announce the next event.

0=0=0=0

**Under the Arena Maximus**

“Hello Duro, you old shit,” Spartacus smiled insincerely as he put a heavily muscled arm around the arena official’s neck, “still telling the prisoners you can save them from the arena for a small consideration?”

“Well you have to make a little extra here and there,” Duro signalled for his own henchman to back off, the man would be no match for Spartacus even when the gladiator was unarmed. “What do you want?”

“I need you to arrange something for me,” Spartacus removed his arm and leant against the wall of the tunnel where they stood.

“It’ll cost,” Duro warned.

“I have money,” Spartacus held up a purse and saw the light of avarice in Duro’s eyes.

“What do you want old friend?” It was Duro’s turn to smile insincerely now.

“Oh nothing much,” Spartacus tossed the purse in his hand making the coins clink each time they landed. “You know the battle scene planned for tomorrow?”

“I do,” Duro nodded, “going to be very spectacular, lots of surprises planned.”

“Good,” Spartacus smiled this just got better, “then no one will notice another.”

“Come-on, out with it you black hearted bastard,” Duro placed his hands on his hips, “what are you planning?”

“Nothing much,” Spartacus announced innocently, “I just want a name added to the side that’s expected to lose.”

“Is that all?” Duro grinned he’d thought Spartacus wanted something difficult done, “I can do that, who’s pissed you off now?”

“You know that little gladiatrix?” Spartacus asked.

“The fuckable little blonde barbarian?” Duro grinned lasciviously.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Spartacus laughed quietly, “and you’d only try to fuck her if you wanted your balls handed to you afterwards.”

“Ah!” Duro smiled widely, “She resisted your charms and now you want to see her dead, waste of good cunny if you ask me.”

“Well I didn’t,” Spartacus snapped angrily making Duro step away from him in fright, “here,” Spartacus tossed the official the purse, “just make sure she goes out to die tomorrow…and another thing,” Spartacus took hold of Duro by the tunic and lifted him off his feet, “make sure she has no warning I don’t want her owner weaselling her out of this, understand?”

“Of course,” Duro straightened his tunic once Spartacus had put him down, “don’t worry your plan is safe in my hands.”

“It better be,” Spartacus warned, “I’d hate to meet you out in the arena one of these fine days.”

0=0=0=0

**The House of Claudia Marius, later that evening.**

“How is she, Helena?” Claudia watched from the doorway of the little room at the back of her house.

“Cuts, bruises, nothing that won’t heal in time, Domina,” Helena had been Claudia’s slave since her mistress had been a young girl and as such she knew all her mistress’ secrets.

“Good,” Claudia smiled, “do you think she can be trained?”

“She seems a quick-witted girl,” Helena nodded her head in agreement with her own words, “as near as I can tell she comes from one of the German tribes she’s still half wild.”

“That might help us,” Claudia nodded to her confidant, “when we come to train her…can I speak to her?”

“Of course, Domina,” Helena gestured for her mistress to enter the room, “her Latin is still poor but I think she understands more than she can say.”

Walking over to the bed in the corner of the little room, Claudia pulled up a stool and sat down next to the girl’s bed. Reaching out her hand she stroked the hair from the girl’s face.

“Girl?” She called, “Open your eyes girl.”

Slowly the girl opened her eyes and looked up at the Roman woman who sat by her bed.

“Girl, I’m not going to hurt you,” Claudia reassured the girl, “in fact I want to help you, do you understand?”

The girl nodded her head.

“The man who hurt you,” Claudia said slowly, “his name is Marcus Licinius Crassus; he will never hurt you again.” Claudia smiled as the girl relaxed on hearing her words, “What’s your name girl?”

“Vanora, Domina,” replied the girl softly.

“Well, Vanora,” Claudia thought that her plan might be fun, “how do you feel about revenge?”

0=0=0=0


	17. Chapter 17

17.

**The Arena Maximus, Rome.**

Looking out of the window, Caius gazed down on the city. Although he’d lived there all his life he’d only ever seen it from alley-level before. But from up here on the outer wall of the arena he could get an idea of the city’s true size, being condemned to the arena had certainly broadened his outlook on live. He was up here waiting for Buffitrix; Eos had found the little chamber the previous day, as an ordinary slave girl she had more freedom of movement around the arena than the gladiators so it was easier for her to search out all the hidden places that people had long forgotten about.

Thoughts of Eos, immediately brought thoughts of Buffitrix to his mind; he frowned and looked away from the window. He had a problem; most of his comrades wouldn’t see it as a problem they’d just tell him to enjoy his good fortune. His problem was he liked, no, that wasn’t the right word, he loved both Buffitrix and Eos. Both young women had their good points. While Buffitrix wouldn’t let him put anything between her legs that wasn’t his hand or his tongue, what she could do with her own mouth made him forget that she wouldn’t let him fuck her. On the other hand Eos fucked like Helen of Troy with her arse on fire! But, she always said that their time together was just for sex nothing else and he knew she screwed the other gladiators at the school just as enthusiastically, the girl really enjoyed sex.

One girl loved him but wouldn’t let him fuck her. The other girl was eager to fuck him but didn’t love him, what was he to do? Shaking his head Caius sighed as he gazed out the window again, this was a problem too difficult for him to solve, perhaps if he was one of those ‘Learned Greeks’ you heard so much about he might be able to puzzle it out. Until he worked out what to do he’d leave it all in the hands of the gods, lie back and enjoy himself.

“Hi,” Buffy smiled at her boyfriend, “is that a gladius in your loincloth or are you just pleased to see me?”

Seeing Buffy standing just inside the door, Caius’ blood ran cold for a moment when he realised she’d opened and closed the door so quietly he’d never heard her, what an assassin she’d make!

“Hello, Trix,” Caius smiled as Buffy came over to stand in front of him, she put her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

Returning her embrace, Caius bent and kissed Buffy’s lips feeling her tongue dart out to tease his own as his hand moved to caress her breast.

“Hey,” Buffy smiled, “we’ve not got long, people will notice we’re missing.”

Slowly, running her hands over Caius’ body, Buffy got down on her knees in front of her lover and started to loosen his loincloth. Sighing with pent up desire, Caius closed his eyes and leant back against the windowsill as Buffy took his penis into her mouth. Yes, he thought, as she slid her mouth up and down his throbbing shaft, best to leave all difficult decisions to the gods, in the meantime he’d just enjoy his good fortune.

0=0=0=0

**Near Faith’s Villa, Rome.**

Making her way through the crowds with only a couple of guards and maids to attend her, Faith headed for her meeting with Willow. Really as a rich, important woman she should go in a litter but she hated the things and they sort of stuck out when she was trying to be sneaky. After her rather abortive meeting with Buffy the previous week things had become a little hectic. There never seemed to be time to go out to the Batiatus School place and brow beat Lentulus into selling Buffy to her. However, the girl didn’t appear to be in any great danger so Faith wasn’t too concerned at the delay.

Although Buffy and Faith hadn’t parted on exactly friendly terms, after all Buffy had stabbed her in the belly and Faith had jumped off the roof to avoid Buffy using her blood to save Angel. In a twisted sort of way, Faith’s present life style was all down to Buffy stabbing her. Even if Buffy and herself hadn’t fallen out and become mortal enemies, what would have happened to her in the future anyway? Faith often asked herself this question, the answer she’d come up with wasn’t comforting. A year, maybe two, as a slayer followed by a no doubt lonely, messy death in a dark alley somewhere and no one to mourn her passing. 

In Rome she had money, property, a good and loving husband and five beautiful children, she’d have never have got anything like that up time; she had to admit it, she had a lot to thank Buffy for. It was only right that she do all she could to free Buffy and fix things so her old enemy could have a life almost as good as her own. So, next week for sure she’d go and free Buffy and let her start a new life. Her thoughts about freeing Buffy and finding her a husband were interrupted by the sound of one of her men speaking harshly to someone who was blocking her party’s way.

“Make way for the Quality!” Ordered Faith’s guardsman as he went to push by half a dozen toughs who were blocking the alley.

“I have a message for her honour, Fidelia Arsenius,” a particularly villainous looking tough stepped forward.

Raising her hand for her party to stop, Faith stepped forward and looked the man up and down. Trash, was her immediate thought, just like she’d been in Boston. The man’s tunic looked of good quality but was a little too garish to be worn in daylight and in public.

“What do ya want, shithead,” Faith snarled, time was getting on and she didn’t want to be late for her appointment with Willow.

“My name’s, Villanus, Lady, not ‘shithead’,” Villanus replied with barely cancelled anger.

“Whatever,” Faith was on the point of dismissing the man and walking on, he wouldn’t dare try and stop her in such a public place, “what’s your message?”

“More of a question really Domina,” Villanus smiled villainously. “His Honour, Senator Marcus Licinius Crassus wishes to know if you know where your son Marius is at this very moment.”

Suddenly Villanus found himself with a very angry woman holding a very large dagger to his throat.

“If that fucking creature harms one hair on my boy’s head,” Faith snarled menacingly into Villanus’ face, “I’ll kill him and everyone he knows starting with you.”

Earlier that morning Marius had left the house with his personnel servant saying he was going down to the docks to watch the ships bring grain up the Tiber. Faith was pretty sure he was actually off to see some harlot somewhere; but what could she do? She couldn’t keep him locked in the house all the time and anyway there were the maids who’d happily open their legs for the young master! So yes, if Crassus wanted to get hold of her boy then he probably could, she wasn’t about to risk her son’s life on the off chance that this thug was lying.

“If you kill me,” Villanus said careful not to move his throat too much, “the boy dies.”

“Hey,” Faith smiled nastily, “ya really think Crassus would kill his hostage just because I gutted ya in the street here?”

“Probably not,” Villanus admitted with a shrug.

“What does the filth want?” Faith made a slight cut in the skin of the tough’s neck and watched as his blood slowly trickled across his skin to stain his tunic.

“His Honour says for me to tell you,” Villanus tried to move away from the dagger but found himself held firmly in place by the coldly, angry woman. “Your son will remain unharmed as long as you make no attempt to free or in anyway approach the gladiatrix known as Buffitrix; he knows you’ve tried to buy her. Once the gladiatrix is in his Honour’s possession your son will be returned to you unharmed.”

“And if I don’t agree to his terms,” Faith wanted to know.

“Your son will be returned to you,” Villanus decided that it was probably best not to smile evilly at this point, “a piece at a time.”

“Okay,” Faith released her hold on Villanus and hid away her dagger; while she’d feel great satisfaction killing this piece of gutter filth it would probably be bad for her boy, “you get to live, for now.” Faith paused in thought, all her instincts were telling her to go round to Crassus’ place and hold him over a fire until he told her where Marius was; while this would be fun and relaxing, her boy would likely as not turn up dead in the Tiber. “Tell ya master that I’ll agree to his terms,” for now, she added to herself. “But I want ya to tell his shit-headed-ness and I really want ya to make sure he understands; if he harms my boy in anyway he’ll end up begging me to kill him, ya understand?”

“Of course, DominAAAAAGH!” Villanus screamed as Faith grabbed his hand and bent it into an unnatural shape.

“You’ve broken my fingers!” Villanus wailed as he staggered away from Faith and cradled his ruined hand across his chest.

“Yeah, looks like,” Faith shrugged as she stood in front of Villanus looking as if she’d never moved let alone broken every bone in the thug’s hand. “The pain’ll remind ya to pass on my message, okay?”

Before Villanus could answer, Faith had turned on her heel and was ploughing her way back though the crowds as she headed home; she needed to think, to plan, to sharpen all her weapons…oh and send a message to Willow.

0=0=0=0

**The Rana Magicus, the Aventine, Rome.**

Looking up from the scroll she was studying, Willow suddenly found her shop full of large, armed men who looked down at her menacingly.

“Okay guys,” Willow looked from one unfriendly face to another, “what can I do for you? Bearing in mind that I’m soooo not into the whole gang rape thing.”

“You are, Shani the Wise of Alexandria?” A particularly unpleasant little man pushed his way to the front of the crowd; Willow wrinkled her nose as the man got closer, he had a majorly bad body odour problem.

“I am,” Willow nodded as she drew her magics around her ready to fight to the death.

“Step-mother to Aeneas, son of Titus Pullo?” The smelly little man continued.

“Okay,” Willow stood up from her stool and let her hair and eyes begin to change to black as the shadows around the room got darker and started to press in on the worried looking men in her shop. “What have you done?”

“My master Marcus Licinius CrAAAAAAAAAH!!” the messenger, Odius by name, felt as if a giant hand had grabbed him by the throat and had lifted him off the floor.

“Now tell me what your disgusting master has done with Aeneas,” Willow really wished she’d learnt to swear properly over the years; perhaps she should get Faith to give her lessons. “And tell me before I pop your head like a zit!”

Odius didn’t know the word ‘zit’, but he did know the words ‘pop', 'your' and 'head’; he also didn’t like the idea of these words being in such close proximity to each other.

“My master wishes me to tell you,” Odius choked out, “that he holds the boy Aeneas.” Odius’ hands tried to claw at the invisible hand that held him but it did no good. “As long as you don’t interfere with my master’s plan to take ownership of the gladiatrix know as Buffitrix your boy will be released unharmed.”

“And if I don’t he’ll send him back bit by bit?” Willow put the tough down but didn’t release her hold on his neck.

“Yeah that’s about it,” Odius croaked.

“Tell Crassus from me,” Willow sighed as she released her hold on Odius and made the shadows retreat to there proper places; the street gang breathed a collective sigh of relief, “Oh, you know what to tell him,” Willow looked from one frightened face to another, “You do know that once I tell my husband you’re all as good as dead?” Willow announced matter-of-factly, “He’ll kill you, your families, your friends even your pets if you’ve got any. You see he’s very fond of that boy…as am I, so once my husband has cut you all up into tiny, screaming, bloody little chunks of flesh, I’ll start on you and you really won’t like that…now GET OUT OF MY SHOP!”

Watching as the gang all tried to get through one small door at the same time, Willow sat down on her stool and sighed heavily. This would need careful handling, a thought came to her mind, Crassus had likely as not taken one of Faith’s kids too. 

“Drusilla!” Willow called, the girl’s head appeared around the door to the back kitchen, “Look after the shop.”

Picking up Zofiya, Willow headed out into the daylight and over to the Tavern, she wasn’t looking forward to telling her husband that his eldest son had been kidnapped. She also wasn’t looking forward to stopping him from going around to Crassus’ house and just killing the man, no that would have to wait for later. Only after they’d got Aeneas back and which ever of Faith’s kids had been snatched could the fun begin.

0=0=0=0

**A cell somewhere in Rome.**

The two boys sat next to each other on the floor of the small cell, apart from two buckets, one for water the other for slops the little room was completely bare. Light came from a small barred window high up on one wall, if one of them sat on the other’s shoulders he should just be able to see outside.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” announced the older of the two lads, “I’m Marius Arsenius.”

“Aeneas son of Titus Pullo,” replied Aeneas as the two boys solemnly shook hands.

“I’ve seen you with my sister Fidie,” Marius continued.

“We’re friends,” Aeneas explained.

“Yes I know,” Marius nodded his head, “I do hope we can be friends also.”

“As do I,” Aeneas agreed trying to be adult about the situation, “it would be the wise thing to do in this situation.”

“Indeed,” Marius nodded his head, he knew that his mother and father would turn Rome inside out trying to find him; he also felt slightly sorry for all the people his mother would no doubt kill in vengeance for his abduction. “Your father is a famous man,” Marius looked at his fellow prisoner, “and your step-mother is a close friend of my mother.”

“Probably why we’ve been taken prisoner,” Aeneas pointed out, he’d been walking down an alley near his home when someone had put a sack over his head and carried him off; when the sack had been removed he’d found himself in the cell, a little later he’d been joined by Marius.

“Then we are duty bound to help our parents by trying to escape,” Marius climbed to his feet and went over to examine the cell door.

“I don’t suppose…” Aeneas began but saw the look on his new friend’s face.

“Unless you have a battering ram about your person,” Marius shrugged, “we won’t get out that way.”

“Have you something I could use as a lock pick?” Aeneas asked.

“You think you could pick the lock?” Marius looked at Aeneas with renewed hope.

“If I had a piece of metal about this long,” Aeneas held his hands about four or five inches apart, “a nail would do at a pinch.”

“Sorry,” Marius went and sat down on the floor again, he looked up at the window, “perhaps if we…”

“No good,” Aeneas sat down with his back against the door, “I managed to jump and pull myself up before you arrived the bars are solid and have been freshly set into the stone work.”

“Gods below!” Marius lost control of himself for a moment, he tried to be a Stoic but sometimes his feelings just burst out, perhaps he got that from his mother.

“Whatever,” Aeneas shrugged, that’s what his step-mother said when something happened that couldn’t be helped.

“This leaves us only one option,” Marius announced once he’d regained control of his emotions.

“Which is?”

“When the guards come to feed us,” Marius explained, “we must overpower them and make our escape that way!”

“Right,” Aeneas agreed, “you do realise that not only do I not have my battering ram with me, I seem to have left all my weapons at home today.”

“We must improvise,” Marius pointed out, “adapt, overcome!”

“Yeah,” Aeneas sighed, “whatever.”

0=0=0=0

**The Arena Maximus, Rome.**

Unaware of the drama unfolding around her, Buffy sat cross legged on the floor with a few of the other gladiators playing dice. By a mixture of skill, luck and letting her already short skirt ride up higher than she’d normally let it, she was several coins ahead of the game. Rolling the dice again it came up with a four, placing it with the other four, fours already rolled she cheered herself and took another coin or two from the pot. Other’s groaned or cheered depending on whether they’d won their side bets or not.

“Buffitrix!”

Turning her head Buffy saw Hector coming towards her, a worried and confused frown on his face.

“What’s up, Coach?” Buffy asked from her seat on the floor, “you look like you lost a denarius and found a dupondius.”

“This is no time to joke girl,” Hector said urgently, “get up and get yourself armed your on in five minutes.”

“What!?” Buffy jumped to her feet, “I’m not supposed to fight again ‘til tomorrow.”

Today was supposed to be a rest day for Buffy, she really didn’t need to be at the arena, but she wasn’t allowed to roam the city in case she ran off or was stolen.

“There’s been some sort of mix up,” Hector explained as he rushed her to where her gear lay.

“What sort of mix up?” Buffy demanded as she put on one of her grieves and Hector fastened on the other.

“It seems you’ve been put down to take part in the finale this afternoon,” Hector passed her, her knife which she slipped into the sheath on her belt, “helmet, quickly,” he said handing over her shield, “there’s no time for your arm guard,” he pushed her towards the assembly area where about twenty or so fully armed and armoured gladiators stood. Someone passed her sword to her and she found herself lost between all the tall gladiators, a short gladiatrix in amongst these huge men.

“What the Hades is goin’ on?” Buffy demanded of the closest gladiator.

“What the Hades are you doing here girl?” the gladiator snapped back.

“I’m Buffitrix,” Buffy snarled more than a little fed up with all the sexism going on around her, “I kill them all!”

“You do? I mean you are? Sorry,” the gladiator apologised and shrugged, “didn’t recognise you for a moment there without all the blood; your guess is as good as mine everything’s a big secret see?”

Everyone started to move towards the stairs leading to the Gate of Life and the arena proper. It was at this point Buffy noticed that everyone but her was dressed and armed in the same way. Chainmail shirts over grey tunics, helmets, military style shields, long spears and gladius’. Following the gladiator up the stairs she waited while some official made an announcement about the First Citizen. When the man had finished his little speech the gates at the top of the stairs opened and the gladiators started to file out onto the sand.

0=0=0=0


	18. Chapter 18

18.

**The Arena Maximus, Rome.**

Trotting out into the sunlight, Buffy screwed up her eyes for a second until they’d adapted to the glare. As usual the roar of the crowd was like a living thing that almost stopped her dead in her tracks. Pausing for only a second she ran on into the centre of the arena with the other gladiators where they formed up in a loose square, spears grounded to await their fate.

Over the noise of the crowd, Buffy heard trumpets blowing a discordant fanfare as primitive drums throbbed in a hypnotic rhythm. Slowly the noise of the crowd subsided until it was a low murmur, like hearing the sea washing against the shore far away. Movement drew her eye to the VIP box where the First Citizen sat with his family, guests and friends. Her sharp eyes picked out a man in a garishly coloured toga and a ridiculous red wig as he moved to the front of the box. Holding up his arms for quiet he waited until even the soft murmuring of the crowd was stilled.

“On this day,” the called man, obviously the Editor of the games, “we reach back to hallowed antiquity to bring you a recreation of the second fall of mighty Carthage!”

The crowd roared its approval while Buffy wondered, if this Carthage place was so mighty why was it falling for the second time? Before she’d had time to puzzle out this important question the Editor had called the crowd to silence and was speaking again.

“On the barren plain of Zama,” the Editor paused for dramatic effect, “there stood the invincible armies of the barbarian Hannibal…”

Once again Buffy wondered; if these armies were so invincible why had Carthage fallen at least twice? However she did remember the name Hannibal from school, something about taking elephants over the Alps, maybe they’d enjoyed the skiing?

“Ferocious mercenaries,” the Editor was really getting into it now and Buffy had to smile as she watched his over the top gestures, “and warriors from all brute nations, bent on merciless destruction and conquest.”

Just like Rome then, Buffy thought, she could see how the two countries would fall out.

“The First Citizen,” the Editor continued his voice rising to a climax, “is pleased to give you,” he gestured to the gladiators in the middle of the arena, “the barbarian horde!”

The crowd cheered with blood thirsty anticipation.

“Hey!” Buffy cried out angrily, “Watch who you’re calling a barbarian whore!”

“Horde,” said a voice from behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” Buffy looked around slightly embarrassed, “it’s the helmet, I didn’t hear him right.”

As she’d looked around, Buffy had to say that the twenty or more guys with her didn’t look much like a horde, barbarian or otherwise. As all these thoughts were going around her head she almost missed saluting the guy in the box, catching herself just in time she raised her sword as the gladiators raised their spears.

“We who are about to die salute you…” then Buffy added to herself, “…you sick creep!”

The man in front of her turned and looked down at her giving her a puzzled look.

“What’re you doing here, girl?” He asked.

“If I knew that I’d tell you,” Buffy complained, “I’m not supposed to be fighting until the day after tomorrow.”

“Gladiatrix?” He asked, and Buffy nodded her head, “Stay with me…” by now the Editor was speaking again but Buffy wasn’t listening to him, she was listening to the man in front of her, “…anyone here been in the legion?”

“Like, totally no!” Buffy replied crossly, but several men around her answered in the affirmative.

“Good,” the lead gladiator turned his head slightly, “you can help me. Whatever comes out of these gates we’ve got a better chance of survival if we work together.”

For a moment Buffy’s heart sank as she remembered giving a similar speech to a group of terrified ‘Amazons’. By the sounds of things all the gladiators, including herself, were supposed to die; she’d heard of fights like this before, but she’d never seen one. What happened was that a group of gladiators or more commonly captured warriors would be set against an almost unbeatable foe. The mob loved to see the outmatched side fighting desperately for their lives.

“Do you understand?” Asked the lead gladiator; Buffy understood all too well, she’d been set up, Lentulus would never have agreed to this he’d too much invested in keeping her alive for as long as possible.

“If we stay together we survive,” reiterated the gladiator.

“…the First Citizen…” the Editors voice penetrated Buffy’s consciousness once more; it looked like they’d be finding out what they’d be facing, “…is pleased to give you, the legions of Scipio Africanus!”

The crowd yelled so loudly that Buffy felt her insides start to vibrate in sympathy. Watching wide eyed as huge double gates were swung open, Buffy didn’t know what she expected to see; elephants maybe? Some huge monster perhaps? Slowly she became aware of a rattling, rumbling sound. Moments later a two horse chariot burst from the gateway into the arena. Before she’d completely processed what was going on another gate behind her opened to let in another chariot. In seconds the arena appeared to be full of chariots the sound of the horses hooves and their wheels rumbling across the sand drowning out even the roar of the crowd.

Turning Buffy was just in time to see a chariot charge through the gladiator’s loose formation cutting down a man with the blade attached to its axle. This close Buffy could see what her comrades and herself were facing. Each chariot was pulled by two horses, the vehicles looked like the chariots used in the races that the Romans watched when they weren’t at the games; only these chariots had long blades attached to their axles that would catch a man at about knee height. Each chariot carried a driver and warrior; some of the warriors carried javelins at least two (that Buffy noticed were women) had big bamboo bows. Both drivers and warriors worn bronze armour with leopard skin cloaks over their shoulders.

“STAY CLOSE!” Buffy didn’t know if the gladiator who seemed to have taken command was talking to her or not, but she closed with the man to cover his back as another gladiator fell to a long arrow that’d suddenly sprouted from his chest.

“COME TOGETHER!” Called the gladiator officer as yet another man fell this time to a javelin in the back. “TESTUDO!” yelled the leader.

“WHAT?” Buffy looked around at him not knowing what he was talking about.

“KNEEL,” the gladiator realised from Buffy’s shout that not all his men would know what he meant, “LOCK YOUR SHIELDS!”

Once again, as so often happened, Buffy found herself odd woman out; her shield was round while everyone else’s was rectangular. However it still stopped arrows as she proved when she caught one, deflecting it away from its intended target. By now Buffy could see half a dozen chariots, circling the little group of gladiators, as they rushed around next to the arena wall. By the time the gladiators had formed themselves into a small square in the centre of the arena, another man had been brought down by an arrow,

Finding herself standing in the middle of a ring of kneeling men, Buffy crouched behind her shield and concentrated on keeping herself and the officer gladiator alive. Seeing what the officer-guy had done, Buffy started to think that they might survive after all. With the gladiators kneeling behind their shields, the arrows and javelins couldn’t do them much harm. With their spears forming a hedgehog like wall of spearheads the chariots wouldn’t charge home for fear of having their horses impaled on the spear points.

Reaching over in front of the officer-guy, Buffy cut an arrow out of the air with her sword before it could hit him. Looking at her he nodded his head in thanks. However, despite their defensive formation two more men went down, one to an arrow the other to a javelin.

“HOLD TOGETHER!” Cried the officer-guy; Buffy turned to see a chariot come at the gladiators from an oblique angle.

The chariot’s blade rattled against the shields of the gladiators as the warrior in the back threw a javelin which landed in the sand by Buffy’s feet. The formation held together as the chariot galloped off to be replaced by another trying the same trick. Sheathing her sword Buffy grabbed hold of the javelin by its shaft and pulled it from the ground. Feeling its weight in her hand she brought it up to her shoulder ready to throw at the approaching chariot.

“AIM FOR THE HORSES!” Officer-guy yelled into her helmet.

Nodding her understanding, Buffy brought back her arm and threw the javelin at the left hand horse. The weapon hit the animal in the chest the first foot of the spear burying itself in the creature's body. Screaming in pain and spraying blood from its wound and mouth the horse fell to its knees bringing the other horse down with it. The chariot crashed into the horses and sent the driver and warrior tumbling into the sand. Quickly two gladiators broke formation and killed the crew before either of them could stand up and resist. Their work done the two men rejoined their comrades and the formation was whole again.

“GOOD THROW!” Officer-guy congratulated Buffy.

Looking around Buffy saw another javelin, this one was sticking out of the dead body of a fallen gladiator who lay just outside the formation. Pushing her way between the men, Buffy stamped her foot down on the dead man’s chest and yanked the javelin free. Lifting her head she saw another chariot coming right at her. Standing her ground she lifted the javelin and threw it into the face of the charging horses this time her javelin caught the right hand horse in the shoulder, although mortally wounded the horse didn’t fall right away but continued its charge straight towards her. Throwing herself to the ground she let the chariot pass over her, its wheels, deadly blade and the flashing hooves of the horses missing her by mere inches.

Once the vehicle had passed she sprang back to her feet and ran after the chariot before pulling the warrior to the ground. Not even bothering to draw her sword, Buffy used the rim of her shield to stove in the woman’s head. Another chariot following on behind the first and swerved to avoid the vehicle with the injured horse. A spear thrust caused the driver to flinch and lose control of his horses. Galloping on in blind panic the horses drove themselves into the now closed gate at the end of the arena. The crash exploded as horses hooves kicked out in all directions and the chariot shattered to splinters. The driver shared the fate of his team while the warrior who had fallen out earlier was cut in two by the blade of one of the three surviving chariots.

“FORM ON THE GLADIATRIX!” Shouted the officer-guy and Buffy suddenly found herself surrounded by big chainmail clad men.

“Now we have a chance,” the officer grinned down at her; pointing his sword and led the party towards the arena wall where a wrecked chariot lay.

Finding herself with nothing to do as the gladiators build a barricade out of the chariot, Buffy went back to watching the officer’s back. Lifting her shield she heard a javelin clang off its face as another chariot rumbled by. Following so as to keep her shield towards it she was in time to see an arrow flash through the air towards one of her comrades. Jumping into the air she snatched the arrow from its path and broke it in two between her thumb and fingers.

“Who the fuck are you?” Gasped the gladiator who she’d just saved, “Fucking Minerva or someone?”

“I’m Buffitrix,” Buffy growled deep in her throat, “lets kill them all!”

Just as the words left her mouth a chariot that had been chasing a couple of gladiators who’d been running in faux retreat, crashed into the barricade. The horses screamed and kicked out as the fell. The warrior fell out the back of the vehicle just before it crashed while the driver flew over the kicking horses to land amongst the gladiators where he was hacked to death. Avoiding the kicking feet of the injured horses, Buffy climbed over the debris of the ruined chariot, drawing her sword she fell on the warrior as he was getting up. 

A cut took the man’s right arm off at the elbow preventing him from drawing his own weapon. As the man looked in foolish surprise at his bloody stump, Buffy rammed her sword into his belly up under his bronze corselet. Couching blood onto Buffy breasts and stomach the man died, his blood soaking into the ever hungry arena sand. Now there were only two chariots and their crews left to deal with.

“IN COLUMN TO THE CHARIOTS!” The officer pointed at the two remaining chariots at the other end of the arena, it was obviously time to attack, “IN COLUMN! STAY WITH ME!”

Pushing herself into place next to the officer, Buffy noted that it wasn’t much of a column; of the twenty or so men who’d marched out onto the sand only nine remained on their feet, it would have to be enough. As they advanced at a fast walk, Buffy realised they’d caught the chariots off guard. They’d stopped to reorganise, but in doing so they’d lost their momentum, when they charged they’d have to begin from a standing start.

The drivers urged their horses forwards as the gladiators closed in on the chariots threatening to trap them at one end of the arena. In their eagerness to get at the reduced force of gladiators the drivers drove their chariots too close together. Suddenly, blades that were supposed to cut down the enemy locked into the spokes of the wheels bringing the chariots to a precipitous halt. Wood splinted as wheels were smashed by the iron blades, horses screamed and lashed out with their hooves as spear points were plunged into their chests.

Running forward, Buffy jumped onto the pole between two dying horses and ran nimbly along it until she was in reach of the driver. Other gladiators had already run around the stalled chariots and were roughly dragging the crews from the fighting platforms. Thrusting with her sword, Buffy plunged her blade into the driver’s mouth shattering his teeth as the tip of her sword burst out of the back of his skull leaving twelve inches of blood stained metal protruding from the back of the man’s head.

Wrenching her weapon free of her last victim, Buffy looked around for more opponents only to find her comrades acknowledging the cheers of the mob and the applause from the gentry. Jumping over the body of a dead horse, Buffy lifted her sword and shield above her head and shook her blood streaked breasts provocatively at the mob.

“I’M BUFFITRIX!” She screamed at the crowd.

0=0=0=0

**The First Citizen’s Box.**

“Cassius,” Octavian Caesar gestured for the Editor to join him, “my history may be a little hazy,” he pointed out sarcastically, “but shouldn’t the barbarians,” he gestured to the gladiatrix who was shaking her breasts lewdly at the mob, “lose the battle of Zama?”

“Erm,” Cassius paused as he tried to think of a way of talking himself out of this, “yes, First Citizen…forgive me, sir?”

“No, it’s alright,” Octavian gave the man one of his chilliest smiles, “I rather enjoy surprises.”

“Thank-you, First Citizen,” Once again it took Cassius several moments to realise he’d been dismissed before he turned away to see to the closing of the games for the day.

0=0=0=0

**Under the Arena Maximus.**

Storming into the chamber that housed the other gladiators from the school of Batiatus, Buffy didn’t at first notice the cheers that greeted her return. She was mad, someone had set her up to get killed and it was sheer good luck that the officer-like gladiator had been there to take command. If he’d not been there, her body along with those of the other gladiators would now be being dragged across the sand to the Gate of Death to be burnt in the fires along with all the other arena trash. Slowly as she started to register all the cheering and grinning faces around her; her anger started to abate a little.

“BUFFITRIX!” Looking to her right Buffy saw Hector advance on her across the room, his white teeth flashing in his dark face, “I saw everything you were magnificent!”

“I was nearly totally killed!” Buffy snapped back.

“But…” Hector started to say more but was cut off before he could complete his thought.

“DON’T!” Buffy snapped warningly finding herself breathing heavily she knew she was losing control of her anger again; taking a deep breath she calmed herself so when she next spoke she’d at least sound normal. “Look guys,” she turned to look at her fellow gladiators, “thanks for the welcome back an’all but…”

“I expect she wants to clean up,” Eos’ voice broke the silence that descended on the chamber. “While you guys revel in being covered in blood,” Eos took Buffy by the arm and led her over to a bench next to the wall, “us girls like to look out best.”

There were muttered acknowledgements as the welcoming committee broke up and drifted away.

“Sit,” Eos ordered, Buffy sat, “are you hurt?”

“Tell the truth, Eos,” Buffy forced a smile for her friend, “all this blood, I couldn’t say.”

“Well obviously you’re not hurt badly,” Eos looked at her friend and nodded her head, Buffy was covered in blood except for her left arm and the areas that had been covered by her helmet, taking a bucket of water and a sponge she got to work. “What’s wrong?” Eos asked as she wiped the blood from around Buffy’s eyes, nose, mouth and neck.

“Someone’s trying to kill me and I don’t like it,” Buffy replied her voice low.

“Erm,” Eos smiled, “Trix you’re a gladiatrix, a lot of people try to kill you,” Eos started to work on Buffy’s shoulders and breasts, “mostly they don’t succeed, but it goes with the job.”

“This was different,” Buffy winced as water got into a cut on her chest, “you never have mix ups like this. You always know days in advance who or what you’re facing. They don’t just tell you, ‘Hey, you’re on’!”

“Hmm,” Eos paused as she examined the slight cut on Buffy’s ribs, she poked it with her finger, “does that hurt?”

“Only when you stick your finger in it,” Buffy replied levelly, “are your hands clean?”

“No ribs broken then,” Eos wrung out her sponge and picked up a fresh bucket of water before getting back to work, “and yes I’ve only got your blood on them,” Eos frowned as she looked at all the blood and how few cuts were on Buffy’s body, “I think.”

“Whatever,” Buffy sighed, her slayer metabolism would knock back any infections she might pick up.

“Well,” Eos stood back to check Buffy over having removed most of the blood, “the worst injury is you leg there.”

Buffy looked down to see the long cut on her right thigh, to tell the truth she’d not noticed it until Eos had pointed it out.

“Do you want me to put in a couple of stitches or shall I just bind it up?” Eos wanted to know.

“Just wrap it up,” Buffy replied, “it’ll be fine by the time I next fight.”

Sitting down next to Buffy, Eos started to wash and bandage up her wound.

“So,” Buffy rested her back against the wall as she watched Eos work, “while I was out there fighting for my life, how many of these randy bastards did you screw?”

“Oh!” Eos cried as she tried to hide her grin, “Trix, just who do you think I am?”

“I think you’re, Eos the girl who can’t lie down without opening her legs,” Buffy shook her head sadly, “and to think I used to think you were being abused. Little did I know you were just an over sexed slut!”

“I am not a slut!” Eos replied with a twinkle in her eyes, “Why I only fucked Draba and Ramon.”

“Not together I hope,” Buffy closed her eyes.

“Now there’s a thought!” Eos giggled.

0=0=0=0


	19. Chapter 19

19.

**The Tavern, The Aventine, Rome.**

“…and I say, we get the lads together,” Pullo gestured angrily as he stood at the head of the table, “go over to his villa and paint the walls red with his blood!”

“And if the boys aren’t there?” Marius Arsenius, Faith’s husband, asked.

“Then we tear down all of Rome until we find them,” Pullo’s voice lost a little of its anger as he started to see the foolishness of his plan.

“My friend,” Marius sighed, he was primarily a business man and all this talk of painting walls with blood was unsettling him, “I think the First Citizen would have something to say about that.”

“Not if I tell him what’s…” Pullo’s voice ground to a halt as he realised he couldn’t tell the First Citizen anything.

The boy, Aeneas was his child by Cleopatra, who later seduced Caesar, who’d believed the boy to be his own and proclaimed him his heir. Octavian could never allow another son of Caesar to live (Octavian Caesar also being the adopted son of Caesar), in fact Pullo had told the First Citizen that the boy was dead by his hand. He sat down slowly as his anger faded and his helplessness grew.

“Personally, my friend,” Marius gave Pullo a resigned smile, “I think we should leave the entire matter in the hands of our most capable wives.” He gestured to the two women who sat with them at the table, “I’m not a fighter, as you know,” Marius admitted with a shrug, “but my dear wife, Fidelia is, but I have sacks of cash,” again he shrugged, “what you can’t win with one you can win with the other.”

“But I’ve got to do something,” Pullo pleaded, “I can’t just sit around here on my arse while the women rescue the boys.”

“And you won’t, Sweetie,” Willow rested her hand on her husband’s arm, “when the time comes you and the guys,” Willow gestured to the main part of the tavern where the men of the Aventine Collegium awaited their orders, “can cut Crassus and his thugs into mincemeat, but!” Willow paused and took a deep breath, “Until we find where he’s stashed the boys I rather you don’t go off anywhere and kill anyone.” 

‘Don’t’ wasn’t a word Willow used on her husband often (she had much more subtle ways of getting him to do what she wanted), so when she did it carried extra force.

“You think you can find Aeneas?” Pullo asked her, “Coz I’d understand it if you’d prefer it if he never came back, I mean it’d make life easier for your boy Titus.”

“Pullo,” Willow said warningly, “how many times do I have to tell you, I look on Aeneas as my own, I’d never…”

“HEY!” Faith banged her fist on the table, “While ya people are arguing over whose son’s this, an’ which son is that my little guy is probably locked up in some wet, dark, cell being fed bread and water,” Faith sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye, “he’ll probably catch his death of cold!” There was a short embarrassed silence while Faith regained control of herself. “Look,” Faith began slowly, “I might have put on a few pounds over the years and my hips might be wider than they used to be,” she gave everyone around the table a cold hard look that said ‘don’t you dare agree with me’, “but I’m still Fidelia Venetrix an’ I can still kick all ya asses from one side of the forum to the other, right!?”

“Right!” Everyone agreed quickly.

“Good,” Faith sniffed, “now piss off an’ leave Shani an’ me to work this out.”

First to take the hint (after all Faith was his wife) Marius stood up.

“Come on Pullo my friend,” Marius gestured to the door, “let’s be like expectant fathers and leave the women to their work.”

Reluctantly, Pullo saw the sense in what Marius was saying, best to leave it to his wife, she understood such things. When the time came for sword play that would be when he took his vengeance.

0=0=0=0

“Phew,” Willow sighed once the men-folk had left, “I thought Titus was gonna go over to Crassus’ place and nail him to the wall or something.”

“Not a bad idea,” Faith lifted a cup of wine to her lips and sipped in a lady-like way, “the one place the boys won’t be will be at Crassus’ town villa.”

“I know,” Willow agreed, “he’ll have them hidden away somewhere else, maybe they’re not even in the city.”

“No,” Faith shook her head, “he’d keep them close at hand, just in case he needs them as a bargaining counter.”

“So,” Willow rested her elbows on the table as she leaned towards Faith, “got any ideas?”

“No,” Faith shrugged and sipped her wine again, “my veterans haven’t been able to find out anything, you?”

“Same here,” Willow admitted with a shrug, “none of our contacts move in Crassus’ circles.”

“Magic?” Faith raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve tried scrying and every locator spell I know,” Willow explained, “but I’m getting nothing.”

“Nothing?” Faith’s face fell; when you used a locator spell to find someone and you couldn’t, it usually meant the person you were looking for was dead. “Willow,” Faith said slowly, “if you’re trying to tell me that my boy is dead, I won’t wait for Pullo. I’ll hunt Crassus down an’ kill him myself!”

“NO!” Willow held up her hands in a calming gesture, “No, I don’t think the guys are dead, I’d have felt it if Aeneas had died. No, Crassus has them somewhere, I just can’t find them magically and there’s something else…”

“Something else?” Faith asked with a heavy sigh.

“Someone, probably Crassus,” Willow reached out and took one of Faith’s hands in her own and thought calming thoughts at her friend, “has put a sort of magical dampening field over the city.”

“Ya mean like magic won’t work,” Faith frowned, it looked like the best way of finding her son had been taken away from them, “I didn’t know he was that powerful.”

“He isn’t,” Willow reassured Faith, “but I’m not the only powerful witch in Rome and I know of at least one who’s worked for Crassus before.”

“Who?” Faith asked simply; a plan had formed in her mind, she’d find the witch, kill her and then Willow could cast as many spells as it took to get their boys back.

“Senna,” Willow replied, “she’s a soothsayer too.”

“So no magic works, right?” Faith asked for confirmation; without her magic Senna would be defenceless. 

“No,” Willow shook her head.

“No?” Faith gripped the wooden cup in her hand so tightly that it broke.

“Just locator spells and scrying spells,” Willow gave her friend a weak smile, “at least she probably won’t see you coming when you go to kill her.”

“So,” Faith wiped her wine wet hand on her dress not caring that it would stain, she had plenty of dresses but only one Marius, her first born son, “we’ve no idea and no way of finding out where our guys are?” Willow shook her head. “Looks like,” Faith got up slowly from the table, “Pullo was right,” Faith took a deep breath, “we go round his place and paint the walls with his blood!”

“Yeah,” Willow got to her feet, “looks like the only way.”

0=0=0=0

**A ‘cell’ somewhere in Rome.**

“A prison with golden bars,” Marius explained, “is still a prison.”

“What?” Aeneas mumbled as a slave girl placed another peeled grape into his mouth.

That morning the two boys had been moved from their little cell to a much more spacious and well appointed prison. The atrium, sleeping chambers, slave quarters and kitchen appeared to be on the second floor of the same building that they’d first been imprisoned in. Their initial search of their new prison had told them that the stairs leading down to the outside world and freedom where blocked by heavy iron gates and guarded by men who appeared not to speak either Latin or Greek. There were no windows to the outside world and the only other way out appeared to be the sky light above the centre of the atrium.

The two boys now shared their prison with a dozen willing teenage girls who seemed eager to pander to their every whim; Aeneas hadn’t had his whim pandered to so much since he’d left his mother’s court. Marius had never had his whim pandered to because his mother didn’t approve of that sort of thing (at least she said she didn’t). There was also an older woman who acted like a housekeeper and kept discipline amongst the slave girls.

“It seems obvious to me…” Marius fought off the attentions of a particularly attractive girl, “…later!” He told her showing great strength of will.

“What’s obvious?” Aeneas sighed, he’d get no piece until Marius got whatever he wanted to say off his chest.

“It seems obvious to me,” the girl had left Marius alone now and knelt at the side of his couch pouting, “that the only reason our captor has given us all this is to keep us quiet until he’s done whatever he’s going to do.”

“You’re gonna tell me that we’ve still got to try and escape aren’t you?” Aeneas looked around at all the luxury and girls; he hadn’t seen anything this good since he’d left Egypt.

Of course back then he’d not been interested in girls, but now he was, it seemed such a pity to leave all these girls behind, an idea came to his mind in a blinding flash.

“Alright,” Aeneas sat up and looked at his friend, “we still try to escape…”

“Good,” Marius nodded, “apart from other considerations we are honour bound to try. Who knows what advantage our kidnapper is trying to gain from our families by holding us hostage.”

“Yeah, blah, blah, honour, duty an’ all that, but,” Aeneas leant closer to his friend, “we take the girls with us.”

“What!?” Marius stared at Aeneas his mouth open.

“Look,” Aeneas rested his elbows on his knees, “imagine what their master will do to them if we escape while we’re in their care?” 

Marius could in fact imagine and the girls, particularly the one that was at present kneeling by his couch, were too pretty to be whipped and sold to a brothel.

“Yes, of course,” Marius answered slowly as he looked down at the frightened expression on the girl’s face, “I should have thought, we couldn’t leave them here to an unknown fate.”

“Right,” Aeneas smiled as he nodded his head; his step-mother kept telling him he should respect women; with his own slave girl he’d be able to practice ‘respecting’ women all he wanted, “So what’s the plan?”

“First we’ll need to get rid of the housekeeper,” Marius explained, “then we’ll need a rope…”

0=0=0=0

**The road between Rome and the House of Batiatus**

Pulling his horse to one side of the road Crassus looked back at the marching legionaries and smiled. These were the men of the Peculiaris Extraordinarii, the very best men that the Legions had, picked men all trained in combating the creatures of the night. As he watched the soldiers march by, their hobnailed sandals crunching rhythmically on the road, he smiled; eighty men like these would be more than a match for the Venetrix. They’d also make sure that Lentulus would see sense when he told him he was taking the gladiatrix away. After all it wasn’t as if he was going to steal her, Crassus was quite willing to pay more than the asking price for the girl. But he was also quite happy to kill everyone at the gladiator school if he had to.

“Senator?”

Crassus turned to see Tribune Marcus Publius Glabrus, the commander of the Peculiaris Extraordinarii ride over to join him.

“Just admiring these fine fellows of yours,” Crassus smiled.

“Scum of the earth, most of them,” Glabrus laughed; he was a young for his rank, most men in the Peculiaris Extraordinarii were, “but they do scrub up remarkably well! There’s not a one I wouldn’t trust my life to.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Crassus replied as he urged his horse towards the front of the column.

“How long until we get to this man Batiatus’ school?” Glabrus wanted to know.

“About an hour,” Crassus glanced up at the position of the sun; they’d arrive about midmorning; plenty of time to do what needed to be done and be gone long before anyone could stop them.

“We could make faster time if we left that cage behind,” Glabrus gestured to the wagon carrying an iron cage in the middle of the small column.

“No, my dear Glabrus,” Crassus shook his head as a serious expression spread across his face, “we’ll need it if the Venetrix is reluctant to leave.”

“She’s that dangerous?” Glabrus asked puzzled, “But surely she’s just a girl…”

“Just a girl who has been chosen by the Gods to fight the creatures of darkness, my dear boy,” Crassus looked on down the road and tried to hide the feelings of triumph that were starting to swell in his chest, “You’ve heard of her exploits in the arena?”

“Yes,” Glabrus laughed disbelievingly, “but I thought that was just exaggeration, are you trying to tell me…?”

“The tales probably don’t do her justice, Glabrus,” Crassus allowed himself a small smile, “this girl is even more special that any other Venetrix I’ve read about. Once we have her under our control we can use her to fight the forces of chaos until she’s killed, they don’t last long you see.”

“It does seem a little cruel,” Glabrus said quietly trying to imagine what he’d feel like if his little sister turned out to be a Venetrix, “I mean to make a girl fight until she dies like that.”

“The Gods are cruel,” Crassus shrugged, “we can only hope they have a plan for us and the Venetrix doesn’t die in vain.”

The two men rode in silence for a moment until Glabrus excused himself and rode to the rear to speak to his Centurion.

0=0=0=0

“Sinister. Sinister, dextra, sinister,” Centurion Quintus Erebus called out the time after he’d noticed the men at the rear of the column were losing the step; satisfied that all was in order again he looked around to see the Tribune ride towards him.

“Tribune!” Erebus saluted as Glabrus rode up to him.

“How goes it back here, Centurion?” Glabrus asked with a grin, he knew what Erebus would answer.

“All’s in order sir,” Erebus nodded, “but we’d move faster if we didn’t have to drag that damn cage with us sir.”

“Exactly what I said to the Senator,” Glabrus shrugged, “but he assures me that the Venetrix could be that dangerous.”

“Sir?” Erebus was an educated man, brain as well as brawn, which was why he’d been chosen for the Peculiaris Extraordinarii and like his commander he was young for his rank only being twenty-six.

“Seems like the stories about this girl weren’t exaggerations,” Glabrus said quietly, “I want you to have a quiet word with the men, Erebus, tell them to be on their guard…”

“The men always are sir,” Erebus assured his officer.

“No,” Glabrus shook his head as he bent down to speak privately with his senior Centurion, “I mean extra vigilant,” Glabrus glanced around, “I don’t know why but I don’t think everything is as it should be.”

“The Senator, sir?” Erebus glanced towards the front of the column where Crassus rode.

“It’s always wise to keep a close eye on politicians, Centurion,” Glabrus frowned, “this one more than most…do you ever get the feeling you’re being used?”

“All the time, sir,” Erebus gave a hollow laugh.

“Then you’ll know how I feel right now,” Glabrus explained.

“I’ll detail a few of the lads to keep a special eye on you and the Senator,” Erebus said quietly, “if you know what I mean, sir?”

“Appreciated, Centurion,” Glabrus nodded as he straightened up in his saddle, “now I better get back to the senator before he starts to think we’re plotting against him.”

“Right you are, sir,” Erebus saluted as he watched his tribune ride towards the front of the column.

The Tribune was a good, professional officer Erebus reminded himself, if he thought there was something amiss he’d do well to take the officer’s concerns seriously. He glanced around as he marched quickly along the column. He saw just the man he needed.

“Optio Varro,” Erebus called, “Fall out, I’ve got a special job for you and your section.”

0=0=0=0

**The Tavern, The Aventine, Rome.**

Staring morosely into their wine cups, Faith and Willow jerked up their heads as the door to the private apartment above the tavern burst open. In the doorway stood Pullo a big, bloodthirsty grin on his face.

“You’ll never believe who walked through the front door bold as brass?” Pullo asked as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Hey,” Faith sighed, “I’m in no mood to play twenty questions but is it bigger than a bread bin?”

“Much bigger,” Pullo stepped aside to reveal their visitor.

“CLAUDIA MARIUS!” Willow jumped to her feet knocking over her stool, “How do you have the nerve to come in here and…”

“I claim the right of parley,” Claudia stepped forward her left hand resting on the shoulder of a young slave girl with blonde hair.

“That’s more of a guideline than a right isn’t it Titus?” Willow asked her husband.

“Sorry,” Pullo shrugged apologetically, “she has the right to parley, mind, if we don’t like what she has to say we get to kill her afterwards.”

“You can try, Titus Pullo,” Claudia Marius said with more confidence than she actually felt, “but I think you’ll like what I’ve come to say.”

“Okay,” Faith had turned around and was studying the woman and her slave girl, “let’s hear it.”

“This is Vanora,” Claudia pushed the girl forward a little, “she’s my latest purchase, I bought her off Crassus, she used to be one of his playthings…”

“So?” Willow looked from the woman to the girl; as stated previously the girl was blonde, pretty, aged about twelve and dressed in a simple ankle length grey dress and a thin slave collar.

“Vanora thinks she knows where your boys are being held,” Claudia announced as if she was commenting on the weather.

“SHE DOES!?” It was Faith’s turn to jump to her feet and yell.

The girl jumped with fear and moved closer to her mistress as if seeking protection.

“Where are they?” Willow demanded.

“Hold right there,” Claudia held up her hand, “before she says anything I want your word, from all of you, that I and Vanora walk out of here alive.”

“We could just take the girl and torture the information out of her,” Pullo suggested.

“No you couldn’t,” Claudia replied calmly, “your wife would never allow it, neither would the Lady Fidelia.”

“There’s more than one way to torture someone,” Willow said darkly, she was going to say more but stopped when she saw the way the girl clutched hold of her mistress’ hand as the tears ran down her face.

“You have our word,” Faith announced cutting to the core of the problem, the woman had her reasons for doing whatever she was doing; if it meant she got her boy back she didn’t care what they were, “You get to walk out of here alive but I think you’d find it healthier in Spain or somewhere.”

“I expect you’re right,” Claudia smiled before looking down at the girl, “tell the nice lady where you think your old master is hiding her son.”

0=0=0=0

Stepping out of the tavern, Claudia looked up and down the street and then down at Vanora; much to her surprise they were both still alive, time to make sure it stayed that way.

“Spain, eh?” Claudia said, more or less to herself.

“Domina?” Vanora looked up at her mistress slightly puzzled at the turn her life had taken over the last few days.

“I don’t think so,” Claudia led the way towards her little villa, “I’ve heard Greece is nice this time of year,” she turned to Vanora, “yes, we’ll go to Greece, it’ll broaden your horizons.”

“Yes Domina,” Vanora replied dutifully, she wasn’t convinced that she wanted her horizons broadened.

0=0=0=0


	20. Chapter 20

20.

**The road near the House of Batiatus.**

“What’s going on, sir?” Centurion Erebus looked up at Tribune Glabrus who, mounted on his horse, waited by the side of the road.

“I’m not sure, Centurion,” the officer admitted, “this mad woman in a badly fitting wig came out of the bushes and the Senator rode over to her and started to talk to her in a most earnest manner,” he gestured to where the Senator and the woman stood, “as you can see.”

The centurion could indeed see, Senator Crassus had dismounted and was speaking with the woman while the rest of the column rested in the shade of the trees at the side of the road.

“We’re nearly at the gladiator school,” Glabrus pointed out; “when we get there I want you and the squad you’ve chosen to come inside with me.”

“Right you are sir,” Erebus nodded, “and the rest of the men?”

“Leave them outside under the senior Optio,” Glabrus ordered, “the usual precautions…they’re to come running if they see or hear our signal.”

“Understood, sir,” Erebus saluted the tribune before heading back to the men to give them their orders.

“Erebus,” Glabrus called quietly.

“Sir?” Erebus stopped and turned to face his commander again.

“If it comes to a fight,” Glabrus urged his horse back onto the road, “I want no witnesses, no survivors, understand?”

“The senator, sir?” Erebus gestured to the man who was still talking to the mad woman.

“Leave him to me, Centurion,” Glabrus touched the hilt of his sword.

“Right you are sir,” Erebus saluted again before going back to his men and passing on the Tribune’s orders.

0=0=0=0

“Tribune!” Crassus called as he remounted his horse; the woman and her wig were nowhere to be seen.

“Sir?” Glabrus reined in his horse so it stood beside that of the senator’s

“That was one of my informants,” Crassus nodded his head in the direction the woman had taken before apparently disappearing, “she had important information about the school.”

“Useful I hope, sir?” Glabrus asked non-committally.

“Very,” Crassus, now back in his saddle pointed down the road, “the school is only a couple of hundred paces more, you know what to do when we arrive?”

“Of course, Senator,” Glabrus nodded his head.

“Good,” Crassus smiled, “let’s get on then.”

Remembering back to when he’d been a wet behind the ears military tribune in Macedonia, Glabrus felt the same itching between his shoulder blades now as he did back then. He’d usually get it just before the javelins and rocks would start to rain down on him and his men. Checking that his sword was free in its scabbard, Glabrus let his horse fall a little behind Crassus’. From his new position Glabrus would be able to stab Crassus in the back more easily if it became necessary.

0=0=0=0

**The House of Batiatus.**

“That!” Hector whacked Buffy across the butt with the willow switch he carried, “is for letting Caius catch you in his net!”

“OW!” Buffy yelped as she tried to struggle free of the heavy net that entangled her legs.

“And that!” Again the switch whistled through the air to land once more on Buffy’s rear as it stuck invitingly up in the air, “Is for not keeping your shield up…AGAIN!”

“OOOH!” Buffy wailed, “Yes Coach!” at last she managed to get one of her feet free, “Sorry Coach!”

Trying to hide his mirth (but not succeeding), Caius stepped forward to help Buffy get out of the folds of his weighted net. Once again, Buffy had screwed up; she seemed to have a blind spot where net and trident men were concerned. Instead of jumping over the net as it was swung at her ankles, she’d tried to parry the cast with her shield. Dropping her shield like that had allowed Caius to thrust over the top of her guard and stab her in the chest. In a real fight she’d be lying on the sand bleeding to death and about to gasp her last breath.

“Now try it again,” Hector ordered as he stood back to let the couple fight again.

“Right!” Buffy clenched her teeth and hunkered down behind her shield, “I’m so gonna get you this time!”

“Try your best, little fish,” Caius grinned as he kept Buffy away from him with his trident and swung his net back and forth getting ready to cast it, “I’ll soon catch you in my net.”

“Little fish, huh?” Buffy growled and launched herself at her lover; once more the net flew through the air and Buffy found her legs entangled yet again and dragged from under her.

Lying on her back caught up in the net, Buffy was almost too angry with herself to notice Caius about to jab her in the belly with his wooden trident.

“OOPH!” Buffy gasped as she doubled over like she’d been punched in the stomach. 

The next thing she knew was Hector pulling her roughly to her feet prior to landing two more cane strokes across her butt cheeks.

“Do you want to die?” Hector asked, as Buffy tried to rub her stinging butt cheeks, he appeared more disappointed than angry, “Or do you just enjoy being beaten?”

Before Buffy could answer the main gates opened and in marched ten red clad Legionaries. Watching the soldiers, like everyone else in the yard, Buffy could tell just by looking at them that these were no soft garrison troops; these were tough, hardened veterans. The first six men were carrying the usual Roman pilum and shield, while the four at the rear of the column carried powerful looking bows. All of them wore mail shirts and bronze helmets. An eleventh man, Buffy guessed he was some sort of officer by the way the crest on his helmet was different to the other men’s, looked the toughest of the lot. He wore a harness over his mail with gold medallions fixed to it, they put her in mind of medals.

“What’s going on?” Buffy asked as Caius came to stand next to her.

0=0=0=0

Looking down into the yard, Lentulus Batiatus was not a happy man. Half an hour ago Senator Marcus Licinius Crassus had come into his house demanding that he put on a special exhibition fight. What was worse he’d chosen four of his best gladiators to fight and then added some odd rules. Alright, as Lentulus tried to tell himself, Crassus had given him a heavy purse to put on the show, he couldn’t help feeling that something was badly wrong. Particularly since all his own guards had been unceremoniously tossed out of his apartments and replaced by a gang of exceedingly tough looking soldiers. All Lentulus had to defend himself with was Antoninus, his scribe, Varinia, his housekeeper and half a dozen slave girls. Hardly a fair match for ten soldiers, the two officers and Crassus himself.

He couldn’t help feel that someone somewhere was out to get him. Someone had bribed one of the arena officials to put Buffitrix into the arena for a fight she was supposed to lose. It just so happened that Lentulus had been making something of a killing by betting on Trix. Too many people couldn’t believe a mere girl could be such a ferocious fighter and bet against her. He, on the other hand, knew what she was capable of and was quite willing to take their money. Perhaps someone was a bad loser and had tried to have Buffitrix killed, perhaps that someone was Crassus.

“Your Honour,” Lentulus licked his lips nervously as he turned towards the senator, “I hope you don’t want the gladiators to fight to the death.”

“Why not?” Crassus asked eyeing the school owner disdainfully.

“It tends to cause bad feeling amongst the men,” Lentulus explained.

“Oh, of course,” Crassus sneered, “you’re one of the school that likes to keep your slaves well fed, happy and contented.”

“At least, your honour,” Lentulus pointed out, “I don’t have to sleep with a sword under my pillow.”

“Don’t worry,” Crassus gave Lentulus an insincere smile, “I’ll stop the fight if it gets too bloody, I wouldn’t want you to lose too much money.” Crassus sat down on a couch from where he would watch the entertainment.

Gesturing to a couch next to him he invited Glabrus to sit down. Bending slightly to speak in Erebus’ ear Glabrus gave his final orders.

“When this all goes to Hades,” Glabrus whispered, “we’ll fight our way out the front of the house, get the men and come back and slaughter everyone, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Erebus nodded, “clear as crystal.”

0=0=0=0

Down under the veranda, Buffy waited fully armed to be called out onto the sand. This was majorly unusual, she told herself, in the six months or more that she’d been at the school not once had there been an exhibition fight using real weapons and armour. Every other time there’d been exhibition combats put on for the entertainment of Lentulus’ guests they’d always used real armour but with wooden practice weapons. Glancing over at her perspective opponents, Buffy didn’t feel any happier about them; Spartacus and Marcellus, two men she thoroughly disliked (they returned the complement with interest) and Caius whom she loved. This didn’t feel right.

0=0=0=0

“Remember that woman I was talking to earlier?” Crassus asked Glabrus in a low voice.

“The woman with the wig?” Glabrus clarified.

“That’s the one,” Crassus confirmed, “she’s been acting as my spy here for the last few days.”

“I’m not sure I see the point, sir,” Glabrus frowned, wondering what game the senator had been playing.

“You see the double swordsman and the sword and shield man?” Crassus pointed to the waiting gladiators, Glabrus nodded, “they both hate the gladiatrix. You see, she has at various times humiliated both of them and the net and trident man is her lover.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Glabrus’ frown got even deeper, “I don’t see why you couldn’t just demand that Lentulus sell you the girl and be done with it, you have myself and my men to back you up, he’s not likely to make an issue of it. After all to him she’s just a girl.”

“This, my dear Glabrus, is a test,” Crassus explained, “If she can fight the men she hates and not kill them, but kill the man she loves, not only will we know that she’s the Venetrix but that she’s been well trained too. We’ll find out if she’ll obey orders without question.”

“If you say so, sir,” Glabrus shrugged, honestly he didn’t see the point; why all the silly games? Why not just take the girl and have done with it? Politicians, he sighed to himself, would always be a mystery to him.

“You may begin,” Crassus told Lentulus.

0=0=0=0

“First pair!” Sempronius called out, “Spartacus versus Buffitrix!”

The two gladiators marched out onto the sand and raised their swords to the important looking man on the balcony.

“We who are about to die salute you!” They chorused before Buffy added quietly, “Freak!”

“Ha!” Spartacus laughed from deep inside his helmet, he was equipped almost exactly the same as Buffy; however, where Buffy carried a shield he carried an additional sword. “Very good little Trix,” the two fighters squared off against each other, “you say that every time you go to fight?”

“That or something like it,” Buffy explained.

“Very clever,” Spartacus nodded, “almost makes me feel bad about killing you.”

“Whatever,” Buffy sighed just before the signal to start was given and she attacked.

The two fighters came together as their blades rang against each other. As usual Buffy launched an all out attack on Spartacus, beating at his swords while she used her shield to parry his counter attacks. While she was faster and stronger, Spartacus was more experienced and skilful. They crabbed across the yard sand flying up from their feet as Buffy watched for an opening. It couldn’t be denied, Spartacus was probably the most skilful opponent she’d ever fought. Realising that it would only be a matter of time before he saw a chance and took it, Buffy decided she needed to end this fight quickly.

Almost before the thought had entered her mind, Buffy noticed a pattern start to develop in Spartacus’ counter-attacks. Watching him closely from behind her shield she appeared to give ground before his attack. As soon as he repeated himself her sword lashed out cutting him deeply on the right forearm and forcing him to drop his sword. Back peddling across the sand, Spartacus sort safety in distance, but Buffy pressed him closely forcing him to step backwards too quickly and trip over his feet; he fell onto his back in the sand. Stepping up to the fallen man, she kicked his sword out of his left hand before kneeling on his chest, holding him down with one leg and presenting her sword at his throat. Quickly Spartacus held up two fingers in the sign for mercy. Looking up at the balcony, Buffy saw the important guest give the thumbs up without hesitation.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Buffy said as she stood back to allow Spartacus to rise.

“One day, little Trix,” Spartacus panted, while Buffy wasn’t at all out of breath, “you’ll slip up and I’ll be there.”

“In your dreams,” Buffy shrugged as she turned to salute the box again.

“Second pair,” Sempronius called hesitantly before Buffy had even had a chance to leave the yard, “Marcellus versus Buffitrix!”

There was a gasp from the throats of the watching gladiators and slaves as Marcellus marched onto the sand and saluted the VIP.

“Okay,” Buffy said softly to herself, “this is weird.”

This was something else that had never happened before; shrugging her shoulders under her armour she made her way towards Marcellus. Not feeling tired or even out of breath, Buffy returned to the centre of the yard. Spartacus had given her a good work out and she felt more than able to take on Marcellus. Deciding that she would take Marcellus down in a couple of minutes she crouched behind her shield and waited for the signal to start fighting to be given. While she waited she studied Marcellus, he was big and tall which meant he could out reach her. He also had one of the really big military style shields’, as long as it faced her she wouldn’t be able to hit him, she’d need to think up something new.

As soon as the signal to begin was given, Buffy rushed at her opponent as if she was going to launch her normal all out attack. However, just as Marcellus was lowering his head behind his shield in preparation for receiving the shock of her charge. Buffy slid in low towards her target; feet together she aimed at Marcellus’ ankles. Taken by surprise the big man had no time to avoid the attack or lower his shield and block her. Hitting his ankles Buffy knocked him to the ground. The big man fell on top of her trapping her underneath him for a moment. Heaving up, Buffy pushed him off her and on to his back. Jumping astride the downed gladiator she pinned his sword arm to the ground with her left foot and trapped his shield arm with her right knee. Her sword flashed in the sunlight as she laid it across his throat, ready to spill his life onto the sand. Once again glancing up at the VIP, Buffy saw him give the thumbs up again.

“Another lucky bastard,” Buffy said as she climbed off Marcellus and got to her feet.

Marcellus was really lucky, the fight hadn’t lasted more than ten or fifteen seconds. Normally if a gladiator was defeated so quickly he’d get the thumbs down. Standing to one side of the yard Buffy watched the defeated Marcellus as he trudged towards the edge of the yard, she had a funny feeling she knew what was going to happen next.

“Third pair,” Sempronius looked uncertainly up at the balcony as he called out the pairing, “Caius versus Buffitrix!”

This time instead of gasps of surprise, there were low mutterings of dissent coming from the mouths of the watching gladiators. They were all having the same thought, this was unfair, particularly as everyone knew about the relationship between Buffy and Caius. Everyone thought that being forced to fight against your lover was dishonourable.

“Right,” Buffy said after the pair of them had saluted the box, “this needn’t be too bad. So far no one’s died today, the guy upstairs seems merciful enough.”

“I’ve no wish to hurt you, Trix,” Caius admitted, “but you do know I’ve got to try?”

“Not a problem,” Buffy nodded as she kept her eye on Caius’ net, “we fight, try not to hurt each other too much then we’ll compare bruises tonight!”

“Fine by me,” Caius grinned.

At the signal to start fighting, Buffy didn’t feel too worried, so far, although the set up was odd it’d been basically bloodless. In fact the only blood that had been spilt was Spartacus’. Marcellus had got off without a scratch and so far no one had hit her. However that could all change soon, Caius and his net and trident was the only thing Buffy hadn’t worked out a counter to. 

Watching the net too closely, Buffy didn’t notice the trident move until it was almost too late. Only by dint of her superhuman speed was she able to parry the attack with her sword. Put slightly out of position, she cried out as the weights on the edge of the net clanged against her shield, some of them snaking around the edge to hit her on the left shoulder.

“OOOW!” Buffy jumped back out of range, “That hurt!”

“Sorry,” Caius shrugged apologetically, “but we’ve got to make it look good…I’ll make it up to you tonight, Now you attack me.”

Dodging to her left, Buffy changed direction and then changed direction again catching Caius with her sword on his upper arm.

“Sorry,” Buffy winced as she watched the blood trickle down her lover’s arm.

“Tis but a scratch,” Caius joked.

“Hey I coulda taken your arm off!” Buffy whispered just loud enough for Caius to hear, “Look lets end this before one of us gets seriously hurt.”

“Fine by me, little fish!” Caius cast his net.

As the net flew through the air the lead weights attached to its edge forced the net to open so by the time it reached Buffy it was like a spider’s web flying through the air. Like a spiders web it wrapped itself around Buffy trapping her arms against her body and entangling her legs.

“CRAP!” Buffy cried as she tried to take a step, failed and fell heavily to the ground, “OOOH!” The wind whistled from her lungs and she lay stunned and breathless on the sand for a moment.

Looking up she saw Caius coming at her with his trident held high ready to strike. Rolling away from danger, Buffy managed to wriggle her sword arm free of the net’s tight embrace.

“HA!” She cried in triumph as she parried a thrust aimed at her chest, although the attack had looked full strength Buffy could tell it had actually been pulled just as her sword met the tines of the trident, it was nice to know that her boyfriend wasn’t really trying to kill her.

Continuing to roll across the ground, Buffy managed to avoid being stabbed by her lover three or four times, whilst at the same time loosening the net’s hold on her. Keeping Caius at bay with some frantic sword work, Buffy managed to climb back to her feet. Standing up she found that one foot was still entangled in the net as was her shield. Dumping her shield, Buffy parried another stab at her belly while she dragged her knife from its scabbard on her belt with her now freed shield hand.

Realising that he was now at a disadvantage, Caius held his trident in both hands and gave ground. He needed to keep Buffy at a distance while she needed to close to use her sword and knife; he also knew than now he’s lost his net he’d lost his only real advantage over her, he was a victim waiting to happen.

Forcing Caius back with a series of cuts and thrusts, Buffy eventually managed to hook her sword behind the cross piece of the trident. Giving it a hard tug, she pulled Caius towards her; he ran into her left shoulder and elbow. Knocking the wind out of him she watched as he fell groaning to his knees stunned and winded. Normally, at this point, Buffy would have killed any other opponent with a quick thrust to the throat or chest. Instead as she didn’t want to kill her boyfriend she kicked out with her foot and knocked him onto his back. Jumping over the net man’s prostate body, Buffy knelt behind him, pulled his body up right and wrapped her arm around his throat before holding her dagger to his throat ready to administer the killing thrust.

“Well done,” Caius gasped, “I thought I’d got you there for a moment.”

“So did I,” Buffy smiled in the privacy of her helmet, “okay let’s see what the big guy has to say.”

Hiding her grin behind the mask of her helmet, Buffy looked up to where the man in the toga stood looking down from the balcony. Gasping in horror she saw him smile and slowly give the thumbs down.

“What!?” Buffy felt her heart leap into her throat, this couldn’t be right, not even an expert could tell they’d been pulling their attacks.

Blinking her eyes and not really believing what they were telling her, Buffy looked again, sure enough the man’s thumb pointed at the ground.

“But…” Buffy found she couldn’t speak just like she couldn’t kill Caius.

There were calls of ‘NO!’ coming from the watching gladiators as Lentulus appeared to be remonstrating with the VIP trying to get him to change his mind.

“Do it!” Caius said as he moved his head so he could see Buffy’s face.

“What!?” Buffy took off her helmet and threw it to the ground, “I can’t.”

The sound of booing and cat calls came from the little crowd as they directed their displeasure at the man on the balcony.

“Kill me quickly,” Caius urged her, “or they’ll kill us both!”

This time when Buffy looked up at the balcony she saw that the man in the toga had been replaced by the four soldiers with bows. They’d all notched arrows on their strings and had drawn them back to their lips ready to shoot both herself and Caius if she refused to obey.

“Please, Trix,” Caius begged, “kill me before it’s too late, at least one of us will live.”

“No, I can’t,” Buffy pleaded as the tears rolled down her face, she could hear the soldiers straining against the power of their bows, “I love you…”

“I love you too,” Caius told her quickly, “that’s why I want you to live!”

Again, Buffy looked up to see the sun glint off arrow heads, deep down she knew she had only one choice; kill her lover or be killed with him. Perhaps a different Buffy Summers, one that hadn’t been brutalised and tempered in the fire of the arena, might have made a different choice when faced with having to kill her lover; Buffitrix knew what she had to do.

“Kiss Eos goodbye for me,” Caius moved so he could kiss Buffy on the check and tasted her tears.

“Close your eyes,” Buffy said softly just before she rammed her dagger into her lover’s neck.

Holding him in her arms Buffy felt the Caius’ life leave his body as his still warm blood washed over her arm and down across her breasts. Faintly as if in the distance she could hear the angry shouts of her fellow gladiators cursing the man in the toga. Slumping down onto the wet sand, Buffy rocked Caius’ dead body in her arms; she’d always know something like this could happen. They could never have lasted long together, not in any meaningful way, she’d always know one of them would be killed first and leave the other alone; but it shouldn’t have happened like this.

0=0=0=0

“Centurion!” Glabrus jumped from his couch and sort out Erebus, “Change of orders,” he snapped, “get the rest of the men into the yard and keep those gladiators under control, but try not to kill anyone unless it can’t be avoided.”

“SIR!” Erebus saluted before rushing to a window that faced the road where the rest of the century waited, he blew his whistle to attract their attention before yelling down orders to the Optios.

While this was going on Glabrus drew his sword and turned to face Crassus, “What the Hades is going on?” He demanded.

“Don’t worry, Tribune,” Crassus smiled. “its all part of the plan.”

“PLAN!?” Lentulus yelled in the Senators face.

One of his most promising gladiators was pointlessly dead while another was ruined; he doubted he’d ever be able to put Buffitrix back into the arena without her letting herself be killed. 

“OF COURSE!” Lentulus slapped his forehead and cursed himself for a fool, “Of course you planned this,” he shook his head in anger for not seeing it sooner; of course Crassus had been one of the men who’d wanted to buy Buffitrix when she’d first appeared in the arena, “you conniving piece of shit…”

“Yes of course,” Crassus smiled as he nodded his head, “I knew you’d never be willing to sell me the girl without a little push,” Crassus explained, “now you’ll have to sell her or risk bad feeling in the ranks and you know how that will end.”

Lentulus knew exactly how that would end, it would end with all his fighters dead and himself ruined.

“Here,” Crassus tossed Lentulus a bag of gold, “that should cover the cost of the net man and the girl.”

Letting the purse fall from his hand Lentulus turned away from the senator and wished he had a sword. He’d liked Buffitrix, most people who’d met her outside the arena did, if he had a sword he could avenge the death of her lover by killing Crassus. So, the Tribune would probably kill him but it would be worth it just to see the man die.

“Tribune,” Crassus started to issue orders, “have your men put my property in its cage. I’d like to be heading back to my villa before night fall.”

0=0=0=0

Sensing more people come into the yard, Buffy held on to Caius’ body until strong hands pulled him from her grasp. Not fighting as they lifted her to her feet, she watched dumbly as they stripped her of her armour and weapons and put heavy chains on her wrists and ankles. Feeling herself being almost carried across the yard and through the gate she was vaguely aware of the shouting gesticulating men being held back by a line of red cloaked soldiers. She didn’t even struggle as they locked her in the cage mounted on the back of a wagon. What was the point? There was nothing left for her to live for.

0=0=0=0

**The road back to Rome.**

Marching along the road beside the wagon, Centurion Quintus Erebus, looked into the cage to catch a glimpse of the Venetrix. He’d never seen one before and he wasn’t impressed, she looked no different than any other teenage girl. Alright this one was covered in dried blood, sweat and there were lines running down her cheeks where her tears had washed away the blood and dirt. Scrubbed clean and put in a nice dress he thought she’d look quite respectable. He watched as she turned her head slowly towards him, fixing him with a look of utter despair that made him stumble and lose the step with the force of its intensity.

“Kill me,” she whispered, “please…”

Shocked by the hopelessness in her voice, Erebus shook his head at the girl as he got back into step and marched on towards Rome.

0=0=0=0

**The House of Batiatus.**

It was a quiet, sullen group of gladiators who sat in the steam room later that evening. After the fight the soldiers had forced them back into the barracks and locked them in their cells before leaving. It was only after the regular guards had been allowed to return that they’d been let out to eat and clean up after the day’s tragic events.

“Brother’s,” Spartacus stood up slowly to address the other gladiators, “as you know I was no friend of Buffitrix.” There were mutters of agreement from his audience. “But even I say that she didn’t deserve to have happen what happened today,” Spartacus spoke fervently almost angrily. “Being forced to kill her lover like that has dishonoured us all; we must do something to wipe this stain from our souls before it poisons every one of us.”

“What can we do?” Demanded several angry voices together.

“As Buffitrix was so fond of saying…” Spartacus smiled down at the gladiators, “…Kill them all!”

0=0=0=0


	21. Chapter 21

21.

**Faith’s Villa, Rome.**

“Can’t I keep just one?” Marius pleaded or more accurately whined like any typical teenager.

Sitting on the end of a couch with little Niobe on her lap, Faith looked from her son to the nervous line of slave girls. After Claudia Marius had told her where Marius and Aeneas were being held, Faith, Pullo and several of his men had headed for Crassus’ secret villa just outside Rome’s walls. After quickly slaughtering the guards, Faith and Pullo had broken into the upstairs apartment to find the two boys escaping with the slave girls through the atrium roof. Taking half the slave girls each the two adults had taken their sons home.

“Weeeell,” Faith tried not to smirk too much as she saw the hopeful look on her son’s face, “I’m not sure…”

She tried hard to be a good mother, it was very difficult as she’d never had a good example to learn from; Joyce Summers had given her a glimpse of what a mother should be like, but she’d never had the chance to get to know the woman properly before things had turned to crap. Deciding that she’d tortured the boy enough for one day, Faith relented, slightly.

“You can keep one,” Faith told him as sternly as she could, “now choose.”

Without hesitation, Marius stepped over to where the girls stood took one of them by the wrist and pulled her out of line. The girl didn’t struggle or look frightened, to Faith’s mind that either meant that she was a well trained slave or she didn’t mind. The girl was pretty, but not the prettiest girl of the group, she did, however, look the most intelligent, Faith approved of he son’s choice.

“Now, Marius,” Faith fought to keep a stern look on her face, “you’ve got to look after her properly, y’know? Make sure she’s house trained, feed her right an’ take her for walks an’ everything…”

“She’s not a puppy, mother,” Marius, as usual, had seen through his mother’s little joke.

“I know,” Faith relented, “she’s a person an’ don’t ya forget it,” Faith looked at the girl, “What’s ya name, honey?”

“Aglaia, Domina,” the girl replied, the name meant beauty and joy, it seemed to suit the girl well enough from what Faith could see.

“Right, Aglaia,” Faith held on to her daughter tightly as the toddler made a bid for freedom, “I’ve tried to teach this young man right from wrong but if ya have any trouble from him, ya come straight to me, okay?”

“Yes, Domina,” the girl replied with a puzzled look on her face.

Sighing Faith watched the girl, she’d probably been brainwashed into thinking that men could do whatever they wanted to her. While she was sure her son wouldn’t mistreat the girl, she wanted to send a message to both the youngsters and that message was she wouldn’t stand for any bad behaviour.

“Solonius,” Faith turned to look over her shoulder at her butler who was standing only a few feet away, “get the blacksmith to take the collars off these girls.”

Faith didn’t approve of slave collars, also the girls were still officially Crassus’ property. It wouldn’t do her reputation any good if she became known as a slave stealer; she turned her attention back to her son once more.

“Now young man,” Faith fixed her son with a hard stare as Solonius ushered the girls out of the room, she watched Marius as his gaze followed Aglaia’s journey out of the atrium.

“Yes, mother?” Marius slowly turned his head towards his mother.

“Don’t worry,” Faith bounced Niobe on her knee making the child giggle, “you can play with your new toy later…”

“Mother!” Marius tried for the hurt, ‘the thought had never crossed my mind’ look, it didn’t fool his mother for a moment.

“Yeah,” Faith smiled, “like ya gonna take her to ya room and teach her Ludus.”

Actually, Faith raised an eyebrow, he probably would in between, well, even Faith didn’t want to think about what happened ‘in between’, after all Marius was still her ‘little boy’.

“Whatever,” Faith waved Marius’ denials aside for now, “I want ya to get a good night’s sleep we’ll be up early in the morning.”

“Early?” Marius looked slightly disappointed.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded while wrestling to keep control of the toddler in her lap, “seeing how ya all grown up now, ya coming with me an’ a few of the guys to get this gladiatrix girl, okay?”

“Certainly mother,” Marius seemed to grow a couple of inches taller with pride, “I’ll be honoured to accompany you.”

“An’ get Sextus Ennius to give ya a good sword,” Faith became serious for a moment, “y’know, just in case?”

“Indeed, mother,” Marius nodded his head gravely.

“Now git outta here,” Faith jerked her head towards yard where the blacksmith would be removing the girl’s collars, “go…” Faith was lost for words for a moment, ‘play’ didn’t seem appropriate somehow, “…do whatever it is ya gonna do.”

Watching as her son ran from the atrium, Faith held up her baby-girl and looked her in the face, the child smiled at her mother.

“My little guy’s all grown up now,” she told the child.

Sometimes when she watched Marius she thought she saw something of Octavian Caesar in him; she’d screwed Octavian when he hadn’t been much older than her boy. But, Marius couldn’t be Octavian’s, the dates were way out, it would’ve had to have been the longest pregnancy in the world for Marius to be Octavian’s son. No Marius was her husband’s boy, she was sure of that. Although she loved all her kids, Marius was special, he was her first born, but she’d never spoiled the boy and she had no intention of starting now, she just hoped she’d taught him well enough to know right from wrong. Sighing, Faith cuddled her little girl; Fidie on the other hand was starting to be a problem. The girl was beginning to act like a little slut; far too much like her mother had been when she’d been young. The difference was that Faith hadn’t known any better, Fidie should. It was no use she’d have to talk to her husband about the girl.

“And what about you?” She asked the baby as she stood up, “Are ya gonna break ya mama’s heart when ya grow up?” Niobe kept her own counsel, “Whatever,” Faith sighed as she headed towards the nursery, “lets go see what Octavian and Octavia are up to, eh?”

0=0=0=0

**Later that night in Faith and Marius’ bedroom.**

Climbing into bed, Faith snuggled up to her husband, he put down the wax tablet with this month’s household accounts on it and turned to give his wife his full attention.

“So, my oh so dangerous dove,” he began as he stroked her hair, “what did you do about the slave girls?”

“I let Marius keep one,” Faith replied as she rested her head on her husband’s chest, “I’m packing the others off to one of my workshops; hopefully they’ll get themselves married off to the freedman craftsmen, that’s okay isn’t it?”

“Yes, my dear, whatever you think’s best, you know for someone,” Marius kissed the top of his wife’s head, “who is such a terror with a sword, you’re really soft hearted, as I’m sure I must have told you before, why else would you have married me?”

“Because I could see how much I turned ya on,” Faith giggled girlishly, “and hey, I’m just an old romantic at heart…oh by the way I need to talk to ya about Fidie.”

“Do we have to do that now?” Marius sighed, normally his wife dealt with everything to do with the children; if she wanted to ‘talk’ to him about one of them it must be serious.

“No,” Faith shook her head, “but we need to do it soon.”

“In the morning?” Marius suggested.

“Nah,” again Faith shook her head, “I’m off to that gladiator school to try an’ get that gladiatrix girl I told ya about.”

“Oh,” Marius hated it when his wife put herself in danger, “be careful.”

“I’m taking Marius with me,” Faith waited to see what her husband would say about this.

“He’s a grown man now,” Marius said after a long pause, “and he’ll be going to military school next year, I expect a little experience will stand him in good stead.”

“And ya much rather he stayed at home and helped with the family business, right?” Faith asked gently.

“If it’s a choice between that and him following the legions and getting killed,” Marius took a deep breath, “then yes I’d much rather he’d stay at home.”

“He’d be miserable and ya know it,” Faith pointed out quietly.

“I know,” Marius sighed again, “let him go…”

“Hey,” Faith looked up into Marius’ face, “Octavian likes counting, maybe he’ll stay at home and help ya with the bookkeeping.”

“And there’s no need to say ‘bookkeeping’ in that tone of voice, young woman,” Marius admonished his wife playfully, “Bookkeeping is what buys you all those nice dresses and the swords that you like so much.”

“Yes dear,” Faith grinned before saying, “Hey, I’ve been thinking.”

“What’s that?” Marius yawned.

“It’s how you decide something, dope!” Faith laughed before becoming slightly more serious, “I’ve been thinking, we’ve got three girls and only two boys, how’d ya like to try for another boy?”

“Well,” Marius went quiet for a moment as if considering this suggestion, “I’ll have to see if I can fit you in sometime in the next couple of weeks.”

“Shouldn’t that be me fitting you in?” Faith laughed as she climbed astride her husband, “of course if it too much trouble…”

“No trouble,” Marius lay back on his pillow and gazed up at the woman he loved so much, “no trouble at all, seeing how you’re going to be doing all the work!”

0=0=0=0

**The Private apartment in the Tavern.**

“Oh my goddess!” Willow gasped as Pullo rolled off her, “Now I remember why I married you.”

“I should hope so too!” Pullo laughed and pulled his wife close again, “Come here.”

“Every time!” Willow admitted, she relaxed in the comfort of her husband’s arms, “You know Aeneas is still sulking coz you wouldn’t let him keep those girls.”

“He’s too young to be owning girls,” Pullo pointed out, “he’s definitely too young to own a harem!”

“If you say so,” Willow sighed, secretly she was glad (and a little surprised) that Pullo had put his foot down over the matter.

“Anyway,” Pullo shifted slightly as he held Willow close, “he’ll probably end up fucking them anyway now they’re working in the tavern.”

“Beast!” Willow hit Pullo’s muscular shoulder ineffectually with a small fist.

“What have I done now?” Pullo asked in a tone of hurt innocence.

“Oooh!” Willow gave up, Pullo didn’t know any better and to be honest she wouldn’t have him any other way, “If I didn’t love you so much I’d turn you into a frog or something.”

“And I still don’t know why?” Pullo sighed, “Anyway, you can’t turn me into a frog, I’ve got important work to do tomorrow.”

“Crassus?” Willow asked quietly.

“Crassus,” Pullo nodded, “Fidelia and I thought it best, I’ll do Crassus while she goes after the gladiatrix girl.”

“Be careful,” Willow warned.

“Don’t worry I’m taking a few of the lads with me,” Pullo reassured her, “I’ll be fine.”

“Talking of Crassus,” Willow could feel Pullo’s manhood grow harder as it rested against her leg, “we’ve still got that housekeeper woman chained up in the store room.”

When Pullo and Faith had rescued the boys they’d found the housekeeper tied up in the kitchen. The boys had had to restrain her because she’d remained loyal to Crassus.

“You want me to deal?” Willow asked.

“What I want you to do,” Pullo kissed her hard on the mouth as he ran his hands over her body, “is to shut-up and come here!”

“Again!?” Willow giggled as she did what her husband told her to, “So soon!?”

0=0=0=0

**Crassus’ Villa, Rome.**

Waking up, Buffy found herself lying on a couch in an atrium that she didn’t recognise. Looking down at herself as she sat up, she found someone had washed all the blood off her body and put her into a simple light grey dress like the one’s slave girls wore. The thought of blood brought back the image of Caius dying in her arms after she’d stabbed him in the throat. Once again she felt his warm blood oozing over her hands, arms and body. Once more she saw the light go out of her life as she’d realised, at the last, just how much she’d really loved the guy.

“Awake at last!”

Turning Buffy saw a distinguished middle aged man in a pristine white toga standing only a few yards away.

“I can see by the look in your eyes that you have no idea who I am,” the man walked around her as if studying her from every angle, “I am, Senator Marcus Licinius Crassus,” he smiled showing slightly crooked teeth, “you can call me ‘Dominus’.”

“I can?” Buffy’s hand went to her throat as she spoke, she felt the narrow metal collar around her neck for the first time.

“Yes,” Crassus nodded, “I’m your new master and you are the Venetrix, and mine to do with as I see fit.”

“Yeah, right,” Buffy looked around there were no guards in evidence not that it would have stopped her if there were, she’d kill this joker and be out of here in moments.

“No doubt you’re thinking how easy it would be to kill me and escape, here,” Crassus produced a knife from under his robes and threw it onto the floor at Buffy’s feet, “pick it up and try to kill me.”

Buffy hesitated; this was way too easy it had to be some sort of trap.

“See,” Crassus smiled, “you can’t even bring yourself to pick up the knife, can you?”

Whoever this Crassus guy was, he was right, even looking at the knife filled Buffy’s heart with fear and uncertainty.

“A minor spell,” Crassus admitted, “as soon as you leave this room you’ll be able to kill and maim to your heart’s content.”

“Goodie,” Buffy replied without any great conviction, “so what’s this Venetrix thing you called me.”

“Oh,” Crassus sighed as he poured two glasses of wine, he offered one to Buffy who refused, “I expect your people call it something else; a Venetrix is a woman or in your case girl, who hunts and fights beasts.”

Buffy had to smile the guy sounded so much like Giles did when he was lecturing, however, that’s where the similarity ended.

“But we both know,” Crassus sipped his wine, “that you’re not just any old venetrix, you’re special, you’re the chosen one, the one girl, you are _The Venetrix_.”

“I’m known as the slayer,” Buffy announced, “a-k-a, the Vampire Slayer, where I come from.”

“Ah!” Crassus gave the impression of tasting the word, “Yes, slayer,” he nodded sagely, “very appropriate and the word vampire must mean the same as sanguilipithicus?”

Buffy shrugged she’d never heard the word before, looking around casually; she spotted an exit leading to a garden, she wondered what was on the other side of the garden wall..

“Never mind,” Crassus shrugged, “I will now tell you what the rest of your rather short life will be like…”

Buffy started to ask herself just how powerful the anti-violence spell was and if she tried really hard could she break it?

“I will be sending you to Pompeii in the south,” Crassus informed her; Buffy knew the name it was famous for having been blown up by a volcano, she started to wish she could remember when that had been. “There’s a Porta-Hades there and you’re needed to fight the devils that come out of it.” Crassus saw the look on Buffy’s face and mistook it for one of worry, “Don’t worry you’ll be well looked after for your remaining time on this earth, you’ll even be buried honourably…”

“I don’t think I’ll bother,” Buffy stood up and started to walk towards an exit, “you said this spell thing only affected the room, right?” She didn’t wait for Crassus to answer as she started to head for the garden. “Once I’m through that door I can kill however I want, and let me tell you,” Buffy turned and speared Crassus with her gaze, “just at the moment I really want to kill you!”

“I don’t think so,” Crassus called after her, “PAREO!” he shouted as he clapped his hands and Buffy froze in mid stride, “Come here girl.”

Obediently, Buffy turned and walked back over to Crassus.

“Good girl,” he said softly as he smiled down into Buffy’s face, “you see I failed to mention that I’d also put an obedience spell on that collar you’re wearing.”

Raising her hand to her neck, Buffy felt the warm metal that encircled her throat.

“While you are wearing that,” Crassus reached out his hand to touch Buffy’s face; she really was a pretty young woman, older that he usually liked but all the same… “Where was I?” Crassus pushed aside any thoughts he might have about bedding the girl, “Oh yes, while you are wearing that collar you’ll obey whoever is in possession of this ring.”

Holding up a plain silver ring, Crassus watched in amusement as Buffy struggled to remove her collar.

“Stop that,” Crassus ordered and Buffy’s hands immediately fell to her sides, Crassus smiled, “don’t worry young Trix,” Crassus continued, his voice soft and devoid of any mocking tone. “After you’ve worn the collar for a few hours you’ll actually start to enjoy obeying the orders you’re given…”

“Why you…!” Buffy started to move towards Crassus with every intention of reaching down his throat and ripping his lungs out, no sooner had she started to move than she froze, she’d forgotten about the non-violence spell; it was, after all a very effective spell.

“Very soon,” Crassus sipped his wine, “I won’t even need the non-violence spell you’ll actually want to obey me and the thought of trying to harm me will never enter your mind.”

“One day, Crassus,” Buffy snarled, as her eyes filled with tears of frustration, “I’ll get free of this thing and I’ll…”

“Quiet!” Crassus smiled as Buffy’s mouth snapped shut cutting off her words, “Tomorrow we start our trip south, so, until then,” Crassus gestured to his slave Aulus. “Go with Aulus and he’ll give you something to eat and show you where you’ll sleep tonight, obey him as you would myself.”

Watching Buffy follow his man, Aulus, out of the atrium and towards the slave quarters, Crassus smiled. It really was a very good obedience spell he’d put on the girl, he slipped the ring onto his finger. By the morning the venetrix would obey his every command happily, eagerly in fact and then once they’d got to Pompeii they could begin their work on the Porta-Hades.

0=0=0=0

**A military barracks near Rome.**

“Well, sir,” Centurion Erebus sipped his wine, “if you don’t mind me saying, that was a waste of time.”

“Agreed,” Tribune Glabrus sipped his own wine and nodded his head, “the entire mission could have been accomplished by a couple of squads under a senior Optio.”

“Well, at least it got the lads outta the city, sir,” Erebus tried to look on the bright side, “bit of fresh air and a long walk did ‘em the world of good.”

“Well,” Glabrus nodded, “you’ll be starting for Neapolis tomorrow, Centurion.”

“Not coming with us, sir?” Erebus asked.

“Sorry, no,” Glabrus sounded genuinely disappointed, “much as I’d like to I’ve got to report to the First Citizen himself, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“Right you are then, sir,” Erebus gazed off into the night and sighed, he just couldn’t get the picture of the forlorn, blood splattered girl out of his head.

“You’ll forget about her, Erebus,” the Tribune seemed to be able to read Erebus’ mind, “as soon as you see another pretty face that’s not covered in blood.”

“I expect you’re right, Sir,” Erebus lifted his wine to his lips and drank deeply.

0=0=0=0


	22. Chapter 22

22.

**The Epilogue.**

**Crassus’ Villa, Rome, about dawn.**

It was just after dawn when Pullo and his men arrived outside Crassus’ villa, the streets were still empty, even the whores having gone to their beds and the dogs not having started to roam the streets yet. Finding the gate to the villa’s yard half open, Pullo looked around cautiously before pulling his sword out from under his cloak.

“Right,” Pullo walked into the yard followed by his men, “search the place.”

His men dispersed only to return a few moments later.

“Slave quarters are empty, Boss,” Laelius, one of Pullo’s most trusted men reported, “Looks like they left in a hurry too.”

“Maybe they knew we were coming,” Pullo mused as he walked slowly towards the kitchens; turning back to his men, Pullo issued his orders, “Laelius come with me, the rest of you keep out of sight.”

“Loot, Boss?” One of Pullo’s men asked.

“Yeah, alright,” Pullo nodded, “but don’t make too much noise and I’ll gut the first man I find drunk.”

With a chorus of ‘Right Boss’ the men vanished into the villa to look for anything worth taking, while Pullo headed into the kitchens followed by Laelius. Passing through the kitchens and up into the main part of the house, Pullo soon found the target of his search.

“Ah, Titus Pullo,” Crassus sounded unsurprised by Pullo’s sudden appearance, “so early too.”

“Early worm and all that,” Pullo agreed as he made his way towards the man sword in hand.

“I expect you’ve come to kill me,” Crassus commented matter-of-factly as he poured himself a glass of wine, “Rather like you killed Cissero.”

“Looks like,” Pullo agree and stopped as he noticed the slave and the slave girl standing by the table in the corner of the room, “you should never have taken my boy.”

“Yes,” Crassus agreed nodding his head slowly, “I see that was a mistake now. Foolish of me I should have known you, or indeed Lady Fidelia wouldn’t let it rest,” Crassus paused for a moment, “I’d never have harmed either of the boys you know that don’t you?”

“We weren’t to know that,” Pullo shrugged and signalled for Ovidious to watch the slave and the girl, “and anyway you stepped over the line there.”

“Yes,” Crassus nodded his head sadly, “yes I suppose I did.” He saw Pullo’s man start to move towards his slaves, “Oh, don’t worry about Aulus, he’s harmless and there needs to be someone to wrap up my affairs if you kill me; and trust me you won’t want to kill the girl.” Crassus sat down on the edge of a couch and sighed heavily, “Where is the good Lady Fidelia, by the way?”

“Going to find that gladiatrix girl,” relaxing just a little Pullo stealthily closed the distance between himself and Crassus.

“Oh dear,” Crassus sighed.

“Oh dear?” Pullo raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I’m afraid she’ll have a wasted journey then,” Crassus sipped his wine.

“Why’s that?” Pullo wanted to know.

“The girl she’s after is standing over there,” Crassus gestured to Buffy after draining his glass.

“What!?” Pullo glanced at the girl and frowned; she was what all this trouble was about? She didn’t look very special, pretty enough but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Pretty little thing,” Crassus smiled sadly, “I wonder what it would have been like to fuck her.”

“You mean you haven’t?” Pullo asked more than a little surprised.

“Oh, I could have,” Crassus smiled, “and she’d have come to my bed gladly.”

“And why’s that?” Pullo was beginning to wish he’d brought Shani with him, this Crassus fellow was too clever by half, his wife would know how to deal with him.

“Yes, gladly,” Crassus smiled evilly, “just as she’d gladly kill you and all your men if I were to give her the order.”

“Why would she do that then?” Pullo asked his sword shifting more comfortably into his hand.

“This,” Crassus held up his hand and indicated the ring on his middle finger, “while I have this and she wears that slave collar she’ll obey my every order.” Crassus paused for a moment in thought, “However, if I were to kill you that wife of yours would do more than just kill me in revenge.” He smiled at Pullo, “What’s it like to share a bed with such a dangerous and powerful woman, Titus Pullo?”

“Don’t know,” Pullo shrugged, he was just about in easy stabbing range of Crassus now, “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it before.”

“Well, my dear fellow,” Crassus laughed dryly, “if I were you I’d start thinking about it now.”

“So,” Pullo could see where this was going, Crassus wanted to make some sort of deal that would allow him to walk out of here alive, “what do you suggest?”

“I give you the ring,” Crassus held up his hand again, “and you…uuuugh!”

“Sorry,” Pullo pulled his sword from Crassus’ belly, “but you should never have told me about that ring of yours and the spell.”

Kneeling down next to the dead senator, Pullo pulled the ring from Crassus’ finger and slipped it on his own. Standing up he turned to look towards the girl and the slave, both of whom were still standing passively by, however the male slave did look a little shocked at the sudden death of his master; the girl, on the other hand, looked positively pleased. 

“Trix is it?” Pullo asked the girl.

“Yes Dominus,” Buffy walked over to stand in front of her new master.

“Time to see how this works,” Pullo smiled at the ring as he held his hand up in front of his eyes; it looked so ordinary hardly precious at all, he glanced at Buffy, “kill the slave.”

“Yes Dominus,” turning away from Pullo, Buffy walked over to the now terrified Aulus who was being firmly held in place by Laelius.

Without a second thought, Buffy struck the slave across the windpipe with the edge of her hand. Standing back, she watched as Aulus slowly suffocated as his larynx swelled and cut off his airway, Buffy turned back to Pullo.

“Is that alright, Dominus?” Buffy smiled at Pullo, happy to obey any order he might give her.

“Bloody Hades!” Pullo looked from the girl to the ring and back again, he smiled as he thought of all the power contained in that ring.

If this venetrix girl was anywhere near as skilful and strong as his old friend Fidelia, he could have anyone he wanted assassinated he could kill his way right to the top if he so desired. The smile slowly left his face as he thought about what his wife would say if he tried something like that; she’d say something that would have him sitting on a lily pad and eating flies in no time. Frowning at a lost opportunity, Pullo realised he’d have to hand over the ring and the girl to his wife and Fidelia. They’d know what to do with the girl; Pullo looked at the ring longingly, as his wife would say, it was ‘nifty’.

0=0=0=0

**The House of Batiatus.**

It was mid-morning by the time Faith and her men arrived outside the gate of the gladiator school. They’d seen the thin wisps of smoke rising from the place as they’d ridden along the road. When they arrived they found the gate half off its hinges and saw the scattering of bodies inside, Faith somehow knew she was too late.

“Swords,” Faith pulled her own sword from under her cloak, “dismount.”

Ordering Sextus Ennius to leave two men with the horses, she led her son and the rest of her men into the courtyard of the school.

“Marius,” Faith glanced back at her son, “stay close…Ennius?”

“Domina?” The ex-centurion watched the silent buildings warily.

“Take the men and search the place,” Faith jerked her head towards the house.

Watching as her men ran off into the buildings, Faith walked over to examine one of the bodies.

“Who is he, Mother?” Marius asked from beside Faith.

“Looks like one of the guards,” Faith glanced at her son; apart from looking slightly green she didn’t think he was going throw-up.

Standing up from her examination of the body, Faith checked on the others. There were about a dozen in the yard, mostly guards, plus a couple of gladiators and house slaves.

“Domina!”

Faith turned to see Ennius pushing a girl ahead of him as he walked across the yard towards her.

“Place is empty, except for this one,” Ennius pushed the girl roughly to her knees at Faith’s feet, “no sign of that Batiatus man either, if he’s dead his body isn’t here.”

“Thank-you, Ennius,” Faith nodded to the man before shifting her attention to the girl who knelt sobbing at her feet, “what’s your name, honey?” 

“Eos, Domina,” sniffed the girl, “please don’t crucify me, I’m a good girl I didn’t run off like the others.”

“Stand up,” Faith ordered as she bent to help the girl up; seeing her face Faith recognised her as the girl she’d seen with Buffy under the arena. “I’m not going to have you crucified or even whipped…”

“Thank-you Domina!” Eos almost fell to her knees again with relief but Faith held her upright.

“What happened here?” Faith looked the girl over; her dress was torn and her skin was bruised and covered in dirt and soot, but all that could be fixed.

“After they made Buffitrix kill Caius,” Eos began breathlessly.

“Caius?” Faith frowned not knowing the name.

“Trix’s lover, Domina,” Eos explained.

“Go on,” Faith ordered, her heart growing cold at the thought of what might have happened to Buffy.

“Spartacus led the rest of the gladiators in a revolt and broke out,” Eos looked around fearfully as if expecting the gladiator to come back. “They killed all the guards and any of the slaves that wouldn’t go with them.”

“So, why are you still here?” Faith asked.

“After…” Eos paused and swallowed hard before going on with her tale, “…I-I hid in the kitchen.”

“After what?” Faith asked guessing the truth.

“Spartacus, he…” big tears started to run down Eos’ face, “...you see he hated Trix and I was her friend so he used me like I was a boy…afterwards I went and hid ‘til everyone had gone.”

“Okay, honey,” Faith put her arms around the girl and pulled her against her bosom, “ya belong to me now, I won’t let anything bad happen to ya.” Looking at Ennius over the top of Eos’ head Faith thought for a moment. “Send two men ahead to the nearest military camp to warn them, looks like we’ve got a slave revolt on our hands.”

“Domina!” Ennius nodded his head before detailing two men to ride to the nearest military camp, “We better be away from here too.”

“Yeah, ya right,” Faith heard the two riders start off down the road outside, she turned to Marius, “here,” she pushed Eos towards her son, “look after Eos for me, she’ll have to ride behind you.”

“Mother,” Marius nodded before taking the girl by the hand and leading her to his horse.

Looking up at the fire damaged buildings, Faith cursed, if she’d time she’d search the place for clues. But, with a gang of escaped gladiators and slaves roaming the countryside she couldn’t risk it. Once again Buffy had slipped through her fingers; once she got home she’d question the girl properly, perhaps she knew more than she was saying or even realised. However, it would be foolish to wait around here.

“Get the men mounted, Ennius,” Faith strode towards her horse, “we’re leaving.”

0=0=0=0

**The Tavern, later the same day.**

“Thank-you sweetie,” Willow smiled at Vorena the Younger as she unlocked the door to the store room.

The young teenager didn’t say a lot, but she ran the tavern like she’d been born to it. Looking up at Willow she nodded her head before returning the big bunch of keys she always carried to her belt and walking off towards the table she used as an office.

“Strange girl,” Willow sighed, before adding, “well, I’m not surprised after what she’s been through.” Turning to the man who stood a couple of feet away Willow gestured to the now open door, “Ovidious, keep the door open and wait here, I don’t think I’ll need you but come if I call, okay?”

“Of course, Domina,” the ex-soldier relied politely.

“Good man,” Willow patted him on the shoulder before picking up her lamp and plunging into the darkness beyond the door.

The night before Pullo had asked Willow to ‘deal’ with the woman who’d been acting as housekeeper and head jailer at the house where her step-son Aeneas and Faith’s boy Marius had been held prisoner. By ‘deal’ Pullo had probably meant ‘kill’, however now the woman’s master was dead, Willow hoped she wouldn’t have to employ such drastic measures. But if she did, well, that was why Ovidious was waiting by the door.

Making her way down the rickety steps into the storeroom proper, Willow cursed the darkness, glancing at her lamp and its feeble flame she muttered a spell under her breath. The lamp immediately flared into glorious brilliance lighting the area around her with a warm yellow glow.

“Better!” Willow congratulated herself as she stepped off the bottom step and started to make her way through the racks of full amphora that filled this part of the store.

Coming to a dark corner, Willow found the woman curled up on the floor. Attached to the wall by a heavy iron chain which lead to an iron collar around her neck, the woman looked a pitiful sight. Her dress was torn and there were bruises on her arms and shoulders; her untidy blonde hair covered her face preventing Willow from seeing what she looked like. There was a slight smell of urine, the woman had peed herself either in terror or maybe she’d just needed to pee and there was nowhere for her to go. Sure enough when Willow lifted her lamp and looked around there was no evidence of a slop bucket, or water or anything else. The woman had just been dumped down here without even the basic requirements for life.

Just for a moment Willow felt sorry for the woman, but then she remembered that she’d held her step-son and Faith’s boy prisoner and her heart hardened. Frowning, Willow shook her head, no, she told herself that was unfair. The woman had only been doing what her master had told her to; she’d not been cruel to either of the boys and she’d remained loyal to her master right up to the end. It would be unfair to punish a slave for doing what her master had told her to do.

“Okay,” Willow sighed as she stepped closer to the huddled form of the woman, “let’s have a look at you.”

“Please don’t kill me,” the woman begged as she looked up into Willow’s face.

Gasping, Willow took an involuntary step backwards as the lamp bathed the woman’s tear stained and dirty face in its yellow light.

“H-Harmony!” Willow couldn’t believe her eyes, she stepped back towards the blonde woman bringing the lamp nearer so she could see her face more clearly. Yes, Willow nodded to herself it was Harmony Kendal, but how? 

Before Willow had left Sunnydale for the past, she knew Harmony was a vampire. However she also knew that this Harmony had been exposed to day light. Hadn’t she seen her being hustled through the tavern herself? Of course then she’d had a sack over her head so Willow hadn’t seen her face but; she’d seen the sunlight on her arm and hadn’t noticed her burst into flames or turn to ash. Obviously, Harmony or at least this version of Harmony had never been turned into a vampire.

“Here,” wanting to be sure Willow grabbed hold of Harmony’s slave collar and pulled it and the girl closer to her lamp.

Sure enough, there it was engraved in the bronze of her collar; ‘Harmonia, property of Marcus Licinius Crassus, a reward is given for her prompt return’.

“Willow Rosenberg?” Harmony squinted in the lamp light at Willow’s face.

“Not anymore,” Willow replied as she let go of Harmony’s collar and stood back, “here I’m, Shani, wife of Titus Pullo, he owns this place,” she gestured to the storeroom. “Now what am I going to do with you?”

Harmony whimpered as she realised she was in the power of someone who she’d been really, really mean to all the way through school. Standing over Harmony, Willow fought to keep the malevolent laughter that threatened to burst from her chest inside. Standing there looking down at the wretch who’d made her life a misery from the forth grade to the eleventh, Willow remembered every cutting barb, every snide remark, every trip or push, every time she’d had her books knocked from her hands or her hair pulled.

It was payback time!

Giggling insanely, Willow smiled down nastily at her school nemesis, oh, how she was going to make her suffer for every time she’d made her cry. Taking a deep breath Willow imagined leaving her down here in the dark in her own filth; see how she’d like that for a few months or years or…

Looking down at Harmony, Willow frowned in confusion; this wasn’t the Harmony that had made her life a living hell all those years ago. This was a different Harmony, she cast her captive a disdainful look; from the blonde girl’s expression of terror she’d no doubt done terrible things to her version of Willow Rosenberg, but not to the Willow who was now Shani, the strong, powerful woman with the handsome, famous and more importantly virile husband. But she needed to do something with the girl, much as she’d like to she couldn’t leave her down here forever. Looking into the flame of the lamp the answer came to her in a flash of inspiration.

“Ovidious!” Willow called; she heard the clatter of the man’s sandals as he ran down the steps and through the store.

“Domina?” He stood next to her with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Good man,” a smile was slowly spreading across Willow’s face as the pieces of her plan fell into place in her head, she turned to Ovidious, “You’ve not got a woman have you?”

“Erm, no Domina,” Ovidious replied uncertainly.

“Well you can have this one,” Willow gestured towards Harmony who whimpered quietly as she realised what Willow was suggesting; Willow noticed the uncertain look on Ovidious’ face. “Don’t worry,” Willow reassured him, “She scrubs up real pretty, she’s got nice tits and as she’s been a housekeeper, she should be able to keep house for you. I doubt you’ll need to beat her much.”

“But,” Ovidious turned to look at Willow, “this is very generous, Domina but I’ve nowhere to live…I mean to keep a woman or wife.”

“That’s alright,” Willow pointed out, “there’s two rooms above my shop you can have, and Harmony here can help Drusilla in the shop while you’re working over here.”

Alone with Harmony again while Ovidious went to get the key to release her from her chains, Willow smiled not unkindly down at the trembling young woman.

“Its more than you deserve,” Willow informed her one time arch-nemesis, “Ovidious is a good man, keep him happy and I expect you’ll live a long and reasonably happy life. Anyway it’s better than floating down the Tiber with your throat cut, which would be my second option.” Turning away Willow paused for a moment before she looked back over her shoulder at Harmony once more, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Cordelia Chase anywhere around?” Harmony shook her head, “Pity,” Willow said quietly; she had some interesting ideas that involved Cordelia and hungry lions, “I can wait though.”

0=0=0=0

**The House of Arsenius, Rome.**

It was evening and Willow and Faith were standing in Faith’s solarium looking out over the city as the light failed and the stars began to shine in the heavens.

“So what do we do with her?” Willow asked after they’d both stood there in silence for some time.

Buffy’s slave collar had resisted all attempts, both magical and physical to remove it. Short of cutting off Buffy’s head and taking the collar off that way it was on her for life; Willow had considered destroying the ring but she was too uncertain of what might happen to Buffy to risk it.

“I’ll take her down to Pompeii with me,” Faith said after a moment or two’s thought, “after all there is a hellmouth down there, Crassus was telling the truth about that at least.”

“You’ve a villa down there right?” Willow asked, “You’ll keep her there, right?”

“No,” Faith shook her head, “it’s too far out of town, but I’ve got a trustworthy friend in Pompeii itself, B can stay with her and Eos can keep an eye on her for me.”

Shaking her head as she looked out over the city, Faith thought back to her interview with Buffy earlier; she’d not recognised Faith other than as the woman who’d tried to buy her that one time. Which wasn’t really surprising as they’d never met in this Buffy’s world, this Buffy was barely seventeen and had never lived long enough to meet Faith. She knew Willow of course, but Buffy remembered Willow as a girl of about her own age not as the older woman with a husband and a flock of children and step-children. No, Buffy had only shown any great happiness when Eos had been brought into the room. Although a little sad that Buffy didn’t really know them any more they were glad that at least she had her best friend back.

“You sure she’s trustworthy?” Willow asked suspiciously, Buffy was still her friend even if they did appear to have grown apart and this wasn’t really the Buffy she remembered.

“Ammonia Sextus?” Faith smiled, “I’d trust her with Marius so B should be okay, anyway like I say, Eos will be there I can’t see her letting anything bad happen to B.”

“Okay then,” Willow sighed, “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on everything, when will you start out for Pompeii?”

“End of the week,” Faith explained, “We’ll sail down the coast, it’ll be a nice holiday for B, I think she needs it.”

“Y’know I’m seriously jealous of you, don’t you Faith?” Willow announced, “All these villas and ships of yours.”

“Hey!” Faith turned to smile at her old friend, “Can I help it if I married a rich guy who got turned on by seeing me covered in other people’s blood?”

“I suppose not,” Willow admitted with a shrug, “Sic friatur crustum dulce - That's the way the cookie crumbles.”

0=0=0=0

THE END OF BOOK THREE.

0=0=0=0

Look out for Book Four, ‘Romani ite domum.’, _Romans go home!_ to be posted soon.

Buffitrix and her friends will return in Book Five, ‘Omnes Una Manet Nox’.

0=0=0=0


End file.
